Fire
by Lois Fogg
Summary: I met him two years before I knew his name." AU fic: Serena is a politician's daughter, and Darien is a farmer's son. I'm reposting this story I wrote eight years ago because ASMR has sadly died. A blast from the past.
1. Peaches and Milkshakes

BIG DISCLAIMER:

I am reposting my Sailor Moon fanfic _Fire_ at because the old site where I first posted it, A Sailor Moon Romance, has died. I wrote this over eight years ago, and while it will always hold a special place in my heart (the first novel I ever attempted), I sincerely hope that my writing has improved since then. On the other hand, at the time a lot of people wrote to me how much they liked it, and it seemed a shame that those people wouldn't be able to find it online anymore once ASMR died. HOWEVER, please think of this fic along the lines of a historical document. Especially if you found this because you like my Veronica Mars fiction...well, this is a little less sophisticated. On the other hand, it's fun, so what the hell :)

ALSO...you might be interested to know that I have published an actual novel, in actual stores: Racing the Dark by Alaya Dawn Johnson (that's me, of course). If you like this, PLEASE consider buying it or at least telling your librarian to get a copy. A lot of novels get published each year, and it's so easy for them to get lost in the deluge. I'm afraid that's what's happening to my book, so if you like any of my stuff I hope you'll think about it. If you want to know more (and read the first three chapters), you can go to my website. It's my full name, "Alaya Dawn Johnson" without any spaces, dot com.

And without any further ado...

Chapter One: Peaches and Milkshakes

I met him two years before I knew his name.

At the time, my father was a prominent politician, a Virginia senator. He was a good candidate for the presidency, but the election was still three years away. That didn't stop him from acting like the election was next month. Everywhere he went, he was campaigning. I loved my father, but I was always upset that he could never act like a real person. I wished that he could stop being a politician for once, and be my father. That day was no different. On our way home from church--I was never religious, but dad always forced us to go every Sunday for appearance's sake--I begged him to stop at a fruit stand. It was on Wisconsin Avenue, next to the Starbucks that I always went to before school. I wasn't in school now, of course. I was on my much loved summer vacation. If there was one thing I liked about private schools, it was that they always had longer vacations.

The reason I begged him to stop was because of the peaches. During the summer, I'm always on a perpetual quest for good peaches. I couldn't have known that this passion would have led where it did, on that hot July day. I couldn't have known, but I can't deny that I felt something. Like a crash of water in my stomach that told me something momentous was happening. Dad parked the car and I got out. I was wearing one of my favorite outfits: a yellow sundress with a low scoop neck and high lace sandals. I was wearing my mothers sunglasses, and my hair had been done just the day before. I confess that I felt absolutely beautiful as I stepped out of that car. The brusque wind made my two notorious pigtails flap behind me in the wind, but the 'dumplings' held, like I knew they would. I walked slightly in front of my father, pretending that I wasn't related to him, play-acting that I was glamorous and beautiful. I gave up all pretense of sophistication when I saw the peaches.

They were the most incredible specimens that I had ever seen. They were massive, easily larger than my hand, and looked as if they had been plucked fresh from the tree. I let out a delighted shriek and ran to them. I nearly fell over, however, when I saw him. He was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen in my life. He had a dark thatch of unruly hair, that fell disarmingly into his face. He was wearing a pair of work jeans with holes in the knees and a wife-beater. His eyes were what left me defenseless. They were incredibly, remorselessly blue--a blue so dark they nearly seemed purple. They looked so deep, so deceptively calm on the surface, but I knew there was something underneath. His lips quirked in a half smile as he watched my paralysis. It seemed, to my embarrassment, that he knew exactly why I looked the way I did and the fact amused him. Slowly, teasing me, he reached down to pick up a peach. He hadn't looked, so I guess that it was just luck that he picked a perfect one.

"Looks good, huh?" He said with a raised eyebrow that made my heart pound painfully in my ribs.

"Y-yes…" I stammered, looking at him with a glazed expression. "I- I love peaches."

I love _peaches_, I repeated inside my head incredulously.

My dad by that time had caught up. He walked purposefully next to me, destroying the strange moment between us.

"My daughter here just loves fresh peaches." He said with that fake amiability that set my teeth on edge.

He looked at me with hilarity in his eyes, and I blushed and turned away. Before he could respond, however, a much older man who had been working over by the fruit truck came up behind him.

"Does she, now!" The man exclaimed to my father. "Well, we'll just have to give her some. How many do you want, honey?"

I had felt so old and mature. It seemed like such an insult to be called "honey". But knowing that my dad would be mad at me if I ruined his moment of "fatherhood" and "down home values" I grit my teeth and answered. The other one looked at me with a knowing smile and I flushed again. He was SO fine!

As the man put the peaches into the bag, he talked to my father, who was in full-swing politician mode.

"My grandson here is going to college." He said proudly, beaming up at the gorgeous one. He winced and stared at the ground, and it was my turn to give him a sarcastic look. He stared at me, the irresistible humor back in his eyes. "Tit for tat." He seemed to say, and shrugged his shoulders minutely. I melted.

"…good to see our younger generation getting ahead." My dad was saying. "So, sonny, where are you going to school?"

"Well, sir," He said 'sir' with a slight mocking edge, but I don't think dad noticed. "I'm going to Harvard."

"Yes," His grandfather interrupted again, "and we're all proud of him, too. That's why we're selling this fruit, you see. To help pay for his education."

"Well, then!" My father said. "Give me twenty more peaches. I'm sure Serena here can finish them."

I saw a flash of something in his eyes, then, something deeper than the mockery of before. It was like intense despair tinged with hurt pride and indignation. I shuddered looking at it. Who was he? Why did he feel this way?

I walked slowly back to the car, feeling his blue eyes boring holes through my back. Just as I climbed into the seat, I gave into the temptation and looked back. He smiled and my lips quirked up involuntarily. He gave me a long, suggestive wink, and then went back to work, pretending as though nothing had happened.

Perhaps nothing had, I thought, on the ride back. But I didn't believe it, not really.

------------------------------------

Two Years Later:

Uncertainly, I walked through Harvard Yard, looking at the card with my dorm assignment. It had been two years since that strange incident at the fruit stand. If I was hoping, somewhere in the back of my mind, to see him again, I did not allow myself to really consider it. I was being so silly, remembering him as if he were the love of my life. However, he was not on my mind at the moment. What was on my mind was that I was alone, couldn't find my dorm and had a terrible sense of direction. The majority of my heavy luggage had already been delivered to the school, but I was lugging two suitcases full of last minute packing decisions. I sat panting in the middle of the quadrangle, trying again to find my dorm hall. I felt so inept, and too embarrassed to ask somebody. What are you doing here, if you can't find a dorm? After all, and I still felt a sense of wonder to find myself at Harvard, of all places. Me, Serena Johnston. Admittedly the daughter of a famous senator, but all around klutz, lazy bum Serena. Sure, I had worked my butt off in high school, but I still thought of myself that way. I impatiently blew an errant strand of blond hair out of my face and looked again at the card. People around me were giving me strange looks, but I ignored them studiously. I looked up desperately, and then saw it: Peabody Hall. [AN: I don't go to Harvard, so I don't know the places around there very well. Most of the landmarks I mention will be my imagination, so don't bug me! I had been in front of it this entire time, and I hadn't noticed! Shaking my head in disbelief, I grabbed my bags and lugged them inside the door. My room, the card said, was on the top floor. I saw guys and girls moving in, and I felt a jolt of excitement. It was a co-ed dorm! All right, so I had known it before, but it the full impact hadn't hit me until then. I sort of hoped one of guys would notice me, but they were all too busy with their bags to notice one tired-looking girl with a funky-looking hairstyle. With a sigh, I stepped inside the elevator and got out on my floor. My arms rebelled at the thought of walking down a hall with the suitcases, so I was grateful that my room was close to the elevator. I took a deep breath, and walked inside.

Somebody was already there. My roommate Raye, I assumed, although she looked nothing like what I had expected. From her letters, I had anticipated someone rather homely, with a quiet demeanor. Instead, Raye was only what I could describe as a firebrand. Her hair was black, but with so many red highlights it looked burgundy. It hung all the way down her back. She had sharp brown eyes that looked as if they wouldn't tolerate any stupidity. She was busy putting sheets on her bed, and the radio was on.

"Um…hello." I said from the door. Raye hadn't heard me come in over the radio.

She wheeled around, clutching sheets to her head. "Whew!" she said, laughing, when she saw me. "You scared me! You must be Serena." I nodded.

"You look different than I imagined." Raye said. "What are those meatball thingies on your head, anyway?"

I felt the telltale reaction when somebody insulted my hairstyle. I lost my previous feelings of timidity and stared belligerently at Raye.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing, you just look like tonight's dinner."  
I saw red. "Well, you look like you're wearing a bad wig that got caught in a clothes dryer!"

Raye looked about to retort, and then took a deep breath. "We'll be sticking our tongues out at each other in another second if we don't stop. All right, let's try again."

"Hello, my name is Raye." She said with forced cordiality, and extended her hand.

"Serena." I said laconically, and with as much dignity as I could muster, coldly shook Raye's hand and stalked over to her bed.

No, not what I had been expecting at all. That was for sure.

Three hours later, we walked together through Cambridge, exuding forced cordiality. Raye was officially a pain in the ass, but one that I would have to get along with, at least for this year. It was funny, because I had liked her so much in the letters that she had written me over the summer. I guessed that there was no knowing someone until you've seen them in person. We were going to this great ice cream store that Raye had told me about. I was experiencing ice cream withdrawal, and desperately need a milkshake fix. My favorite kind were strawberry chocolate milkshakes, made at my favorite ice cream place: Uptown Scoop [AN: that's actually a place on Connecticut Avenue in Washington, DC. I go there after school every chance I can get! I only hoped that this place was as good as Raye said. As it turned out, it was much better.

I had that weird ocean feeling in my stomach again, when I looked at the sign above the shop: Glifford's Old Fashioned Ice Cream.

"Man, I must be hungrier than I thought!" I exclaimed, trying to ignore the recollection of the other time I felt like that.

Raye looked at me with something akin to friendliness.

"Well, I like milkshakes, too, Serena. But I don't think I've ever felt this singular…passion."

I laughed and squealed a little, stepped away from the delicious ambrosia of a chocolate-strawberry milkshake. Raye just looked at me like I was crazy.

Then I walked inside.

For a while I just stared, not fully able to believe that I was genuinely seeing HIM. So I had allowed myself to daydream for weeks, well months really, that I would see him here. I had never really believed it. There were tons of students at Harvard, what were the chances that I would meet one whose name I didn't even know? But the second I saw him behind the counter, serving ice cream to a gaggle of giggling girls, I knew who he was. He wore the lightly mocking smile I remembered so well, but he looked--if anything--better than he had the last time. I think I let out some sound, because Raye looked at me.

"He is hot, isn't he?" She said, appreciatively. I couldn't even respond, I think I must have gone into shock.

"Serena, hello, anybody home?" Raye called, waving her hands in front of my glazed expression.

I shook myself into a more aware state and stared at her.

"Do you want that milkshake or not?" She said in exasperation. I nodded dumbly. Raye grabbed my hand, rolling her eyes expressively, and dragged me to the counter. I was vaguely aware that I was making a fool of myself and that HE was just as aware of my reaction to his appearance this day as he had been two years ago. Some things just don't change, do they?

He smiled at me and all that water in my stomach became a tidal wave. I thought I was going to be sick.

"Do you want something?" He asked in the type of way that implied he knew what I wanted, and ice cream probably wasn't it. I don't know if it was just maturity or a genuine desire for a milkshake, but after he said that, I finally broke out of my stupor. He gave himself too much credit! I thought indignantly. All right, so I definitely had had clandestine dreams of romance with him, but I wanted a milkshake. I loved milkshakes. How dare he imply that all I wanted was an excuse to see him? To tell you the truth, I'm not sure he was implying quite that much, but at the time I got a little worked up about it.

"I certainly do," I said, feeling slightly absurd about the idea of challenging him with a milkshake. "Could you please make me a strawberry-chocolate milkshake with vanilla syrup?" That was always my order at Uptown Scoop, and if he was going to be so self-righteous, he could definitely make me my milkshake. He looked at me with a smile tinged with respect and I felt the familiar feeling of melting into the floor. Milkshakes and…whoever he was, I thought dreamily. Now, THAT was a perfect combination. Raye looked at our exchange with confusion.

"Is something else going on here? Do you know this guy?" She whispered quickly in my ear, completely forgetting that we were supposed to dislike each other.

I shook my head mutely, ogling his perfect derriere which he was obligingly swaying in time to "Do You Love Me". The rest of the shop was small, with a wooden bench in the corner and two small tables. The girls who had bought their ice cream just before we came in were sitting on the bench, watching our exchange with the type of curiosity that made me know I would be the subject of several emails. No one had ever affected me like this before. I had been attracted to other people, but he, whoever he was, seemed to excite the kinds of passions within me that I had only read about. It was scary to feel uncomfortable in a strangely pleasurable way. I had to remind myself to breathe. Too soon he finished, and poured the milkshake into the cup with such a flourish that I knew he had done it just to impress me. He handed it to me with a straw that he ostentatiously opened.

"No one's ever gotten one of these before. I hope you like it." He said, and I was suddenly struck at how absurd it was that I was feuding with the hottest guy I've ever seen in my life over a milkshake, of all things!

"I hope so too." I said with as much dignity as I could muster, and proceeded to take a long sip of the milkshake. It was perfect. It soared to new heights in my mouth and I closed my eyes to savor it as long as possible. Finally I swallowed it, and opened my eyes.

"That is SOOOO good!" I shrieked, forgetting about my merry war. He stared at me for a second, and then lost it, laughing so hard that he had to wipe his eyes. Despite myself I started to laugh too, and the two of us had hysterics while the rest of the people in the store stared at us like we were crazy. Finally he calmed down and said: "I'm glad you like it." I just blushed and told Raye to order already. As I stared at his back, I was embarrassed when he turned around abruptly to catch me. He winked again, in that slow way I remembered from two years ago and finished scooping Raye's peppermint ice cream. I wanted to stay, but Raye was obviously eager to discuss what the hell had just happened, away from HIM. Just as we walked to the door, he called out to me. He didn't use my name, he just said 'hey', but I knew who he was talking to. I turned around.

"Do you still like peaches?" He asked looking expectant. I stared at him, despite myself feeling happier than I ever had in my life. He remembered me! All this time, all those long nights spent daydreaming about him and he remembered me!

"Yes!" I said joyfully. "Even more than before."


	2. Darien

BIG DISCLAIMER:

I am reposting my Sailor Moon fanfic _Fire_ at because the old site where I first posted it, A Sailor Moon Romance, has died. I wrote this over eight years ago, and while it will always hold a special place in my heart (the first novel I ever attempted), I sincerely hope that my writing has improved since then. On the other hand, at the time a lot of people wrote to me how much they liked it, and it seemed a shame that those people wouldn't be able to find it online anymore once ASMR died. HOWEVER, please think of this fic along the lines of a historical document. Especially if you found this because you like my Veronica Mars fiction...well, this is a little less sophisticated. On the other hand, it's fun, so what the hell :) I'm going to post a chapter a day until it's finished. (And if it seems to go over well, I might even put up my extensively revised version of _Fantasy_...which I'm sure about three people still remember, but comment if you'd like it).

ALSO...you might be interested to know that I have published an actual novel, in actual stores: Racing the Dark by Alaya Dawn Johnson (that's me, of course). If you like this, PLEASE consider buying it or at least telling your librarian to get a copy. A lot of novels get published each year, and it's so easy for them to get lost in the deluge. I'm afraid that's what's happening to my book, so if you like any of my stuff I hope you'll think about it. If you want to know more (and read the first three chapters), you can go to my website. It's my full name, "Alaya Dawn Johnson" without any spaces, dot com.

[By the way, thanks for the comments so far! Funny how many people still remembered this.

Chapter Two: Darien 

"I thought you said you'd never been here before!" Raye exclaimed after we left the store.

"Well, I haven't." I said, sipping my milkshake and skipping along the sidewalk.

"You obviously knew him." She said, obviously wondering what the hell had gone on in there.

"Well, not really. But maybe I do!" That milkshake was SO good!

"Serena, what on EARTH are you talking about. What happened in there?"

"I don't really know. Isn't he SO hot! Omigod, I thought I would just melt."

Raye rolled her eyes expressively. "You obviously did. Are you going to tell me how you know him? What was that whole thing with the peaches?"

"That was how I first met him. I didn't really think he would remember…but he did!" I sucked more of the milkshake.

"Serena if you don't tell me RIGHT NOW what was going on in there…"

"Oh, all right. See, I met him two years ago at a fruit stand. He was selling peaches with his grandfather. I made a total fool of myself, so I guess that's how he remembered me. I NEVER thought I would see him here, although I really, really wanted it to happen. This has GOT to be the best day of my life."

"Serena, you have got to be the weirdest person I have ever met. Though who could forget those blond meatballs, I don't know."

I guess I was just too happy to get really mad. So instead, I playfully took the straw out of my milkshake and flicked some at her. She shrieked and let some of her peppermint ice cream drip all over my shirt, and then bolted down the street. Forgetting, momentarily, my handsome devil with the eyes, I chased her down the sidewalk.

"When I catch you, I'm going to dump the rest of this milkshake all over your hair!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, to the evident amusement of several fellow pedestrians.

"You can try!" Raye shouted.

We stopped, panting, in front of Peabody hall. To my embarrassment, when I tried to dump the rest of my milkshake on her, I realized that I had already finished it. Raye had dropped her ice cream cone while she was running. So we just stood there and laughed until our stomachs hurt.

"All right, maybe I like you, Serena."

I pretended to be indignant. "Well, maybe I like you too, Miss Raye."

And we laughed all over again.

------------------------

In the cafeteria, one of the girls who had been in the ice cream store walked up to us. She had long blonde hair, partially tied back with a red ribbon. She looked nice enough, but I wondered what she wanted to talk to me about. I had an unfortunate feeling, however, that I knew.

"Hello," she said brightly, "My name's Mina." And sat down next to us.

Raye and I introduced ourselves, still eyeing her warily.

"So," She said, getting straight to the point. "I saw you at Glifford's today. I've never seen Darien act like that around anyone else…do you know him?"

I seized upon the name. Darien…I liked it. It sounded romantic, like my dreamed-of hero of my own romance novel.

"No, not really." I answered. "Are you from around here?"

Mina nodded. "Yep, my dad teaches here, so I've lived here all my life."

"So, what is Darien like?" I asked, relishing the sound of his name on my lips.

Mina looked at me, confused. "You mean, you really don't know him? I would have thought from the way you two were talking that you'd known each other forever."

"I only wish." I said, pretending to fan myself.

"Yeah, he IS hot, isn't he?"

"Hot," I spluttered. "More like the most gorgeous guy I've ever seen in my life!"

Raye suddenly burst out laughing. "You guys are hilarious! Talk about teenage hormones!"

We looked at her indignantly. "Come on, Raye," I said, "It's not as if you didn't appreciate him before. I saw that drool hanging out of the corner of your mouth."

"I did NOT drool!"

"Oh yes you did!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

When Mina started to laugh, the two of us couldn't help it. For the second time that day I laughed so hard that my sides ached, dinner forgotten.

------------------------

"Serena, darling! I love you, don't you know that by now?" his strong arms gripped me in a steely embrace.

"Why, Darien, I never knew! All these years you have loved me?"

"Of course, my dearest, sweetest love. How could I have otherwise? You are my one and only, the sun in my sky. I love you more than life itself."

"Oh, Darien, this is more than I've ever dreamed. I love you so much. Who could have known that peaches and strawberry-chocolate milkshakes could have brought us together?"

Suddenly he burst into song:

"A little bit of Monica in my life, a little bit of Rita by my side, a little bit of Jessica, here I am…"

"Why, Darien! How could you! All these women? And why, incidentally, do you sound like Lou Bega?"

"Serena, you idiot, will you wake up?"  
"But Darien…why are you being so mean to me?"

Raye grabbed me roughly by the shoulders and propelled me off the bed. I sat up indignantly, expecting to stare into a pair of blue eyes, but seeing a pair of fiery brown ones instead. Suddenly I remembered where I was and winced. Oh my, that had to be the world's most cliched dream. I didn't think I was so unoriginal…

"Sorry Raye." I said, rubbing my bottom. On the clock radio, Lou Bega was still singing about his many women. Well, at least Darien wasn't a player like that, I thought to myself. But why was I having dreams about him at all? I dismissed it and suddenly looked at the clock.

"My god, Raye, you have achieved the impossible."

"And what's that?"

"You woke me up on time."

------------------------

The rest of freshman week went smoothly, although I didn't get a chance to go to the ice cream place. Half the time I was desperate to see him again, and the other half all I wanted to do was run away. I really couldn't explain why I felt so desperately about him. It was just that he made me feel so gooey just thinking about him. Sometimes I thought that it was just because I was a horny teenager, but other times it seemed like there really was a deep connection between us. I didn't mention this to Raye. Even though we got along pretty decently now, I knew that she would just laugh at me. She still thought that I was so childish. Instead I talked to Mina, who, as it turned out, had a dorm on our floor. It was a single, and I was amazed that she had been so lucky as to get one her freshman year.

"Well, I would sure say there's something between you two. Whoo-hoo, talk about sexual tension!"

I blushed, and stared at the tree above us. We were sitting outside, enjoying the beautiful day. It was so nice outside now, but I knew that it got a lot colder in Cambridge than it did in Washington.

"But…I'm scared to see him again. I…don't know what will happen. I don't know what I want to happen."

"Well, you'll never know until you try, will you? You can't mope around all day pining for him. You have to take control!" Her eyes looked rather starry, and she stared into space with a dreamy smile on her face.

"I just think that it's so romantic. I'm willing to bet that you are destined lovers!"

"Oh, come on, Mina." I said, but still I felt excited at the notion. I wanted him so badly that it scared me. "So tell me what you know about him." I said, eager for some ammunition at least, before I confronted him again.

"Well…he's a junior, and he's worked at that ice cream place as long as he's been here. Obviously I noticed him the minute I came here because he's so…" Mina made a suggestive noise accompanied by a hand motion that made the two of us burst into explosive giggles.

"All right, all right. I got that part…what else?"

"I don't know if you'll like this…" She hesitated.

"Like what? What is it?" I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I didn't want to know anything bad about him. As he was now he was perfect—what would I do if she ruined my image of him? What would I do to myself? Still, I listened.

"He's sort of…a player." Player? For a second the word sat in my head without a meaning, and then I remembered Lou Bega. How had my subconscious known? Or was it just coincidence that I had had a dream about that a week ago?

"How much of a player?" I asked, my voice catching. This couldn't be happening.

"Well, I don't know if it's all his fault. See, girls just throw themselves at him. They don't care that he uses them. To tell you the truth I don't think that he's ever liked a single one of them."

It would have been better to find out he had a girlfriend. How was I, an innocent yuppie who was a member of the VLC [Virgin Lip Club not to mention the VC [Virgin Club supposed to make a guy like Darien fall in love with me? It was hopeless even before I started. Wait a second, fall in love with me? What was I thinking? But hadn't that been my aim all along? Wasn't that what I really wanted?

I buried my head in my hands, and let out a muffled groan.

"I told you that you wouldn't like it." Mina said sympathetically, putting her hand on my shoulder. "But don't worry, I saw the way he looked at you. You've got a chance. And I, Mina the incredible matchmaker, will make sure that you win!"

I looked into her shining eyes and felt a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach again. Oh my, what have I gotten myself into?

------------------------

Chemistry was a pain in the royal ass. I didn't know why I had signed up for it in the first place—besides an effort to please my father. He was always stressing the importance of a 'well-rounded' course load. Damn it, I didn't know what I wanted to do in my life, but it sure as hell wasn't Chemistry! Already a week of classes had been enough to make my head hurt. And on top of all that I had to come in for extra lab hours! It was pure torture. At least my Shakespeare class was going well. The teacher was extremely hard, but I loved Shakespeare with a passion that even rivaled hers. I had noticed, however, a peculiarly quiet blue-haired girl who was in both of these classes. She seemed to comprehend the material in Chemistry much better than I, and after a week of torture, it occurred to me to speak to her after class. Maybe I could get her to help me with some of it. So I loitered outside the door of Chemistry, waiting for the girl to finish up whatever conversation she was having with the teacher. She looked more animated talking about the 'Joys of Chemistry' (I made a gagging sound at the thought) than I had seen her before. Wow, she definitely looked smart. Of course, I was at Harvard. By their standards, I was probably a clinical idiot. Oh well. While I waited, my mind wandered—well, guess where? I just couldn't seem to help it, every time I had a free moment, I thought about him. This obsession was really getting out of hand, but that knowledge couldn't seem to stop me. I had actually gotten up the nerve to go to the shop, but the only person there was this acne-ridden kid who couldn't make a decent milkshake. I had left disappointed. I guessed that Darien only worked in the evenings anyway, after classes. Since then I had been too busy—and too scared—to go down there. I was so involved in my thoughts that I nearly missed her when she left the classroom.

"Excuse me," I said hurriedly, blocking her way out the door. I was beginning to feel like a big idiot. "Hi, my name is Serena Johnston."

She looked surprised, but pleased. Maybe this plan would work after all. "Hello, my name is Amy Mizuno. You're in my Chemistry and Shakespeare classes, aren't you?"  
Yay! She remembered. I smiled brightly and nodded. Now, how was I supposed to ask her to save my butt in Chemistry? It would sound a little weird.

"So…you like Chemistry, don't you?" I began, imagining myself like some cunning detective, subtly gaining information. Actually, I must have been about as subtle as a jackhammer because Amy burst out laughing.

"Yes, I do. But I have noticed your perpetual expression of doom in class. I was beginning to feel so sorry for you that I would have approached you soon if you hadn't. So, you want some help?"

I blushed, but shrugged my shoulders philosophically. I should have known that I couldn't fool anyone if I tried.

"If you could help me, I would owe you my life." I said earnestly, grabbing her hand and pulling it to my chest. "You would have pulled me from the depths of despair…"

I would have gone on, but Amy had started laughing again. "Now I see why you're good at Shakespeare. What are you doing taking Chemistry anyway?"

I made a sour face. "My father." I said darkly, and she nodded.

"Well, I'll help you through this, on one condition." She said, smiling slightly.

"Anything!" I said earnestly. This was turning out better than I had thought it would.

"You have to promise to read scenes from Shakespeare with me."

I looked at her with an expression of adoration, and then jumped in the air. This called for a celebration. I looked at my watch, and was pleased to see that it was already five o'clock. This had been a lab day, so it ended late.

"What do you say to getting milkshakes from Glifford's to celebrate?" I said, looking at her. If I saw him today, it really would be perfect.

She looked a little nervous, like she would refuse. "Oh come on! You know you want to…let's have some fun!"

She smiled at me, shyly. "Well, all right. Come on."

With a laugh I grabbed her hand and we sprinted all the way.

------------------------

The shop was empty when we walked in. Our eyes met to the sound of the chimes of the door, and my light blue met his dark for what seemed like an eternity. I didn't breathe. He was surprised to see me, but pleased. And that momentary hint of pleasure made me delirious. My hands were shaking. My body felt tight with that strange mixture of pleasure and discomfort that I had so dreaded for two weeks. If he could do this to me just by staring in my eyes, what would it be like to have sex with him? I was shocked at myself for even thinking such a thing and dismissed it immediately. With a wrench so forced I had to muffle a gasp, he tore his eyes away from mine. For a second I saw his face unmasked, confusion plain, but almost before I could really believe that I had seen it, the mask was back in place. He was the Darien I remembered, cool, calm and subtly mocking. Amy looked at us curiously, wondering if she had only imagined what she thought she had just seen. Carefully, I walked to the counter, nearly unwilling to trust my legs. They were shaking.

"So, it's the milkshake girl." He said, obviously having recovered. "It's been a while. I hope the last one was to your liking?"

I tried to look haughty, but had the sneaking suspicion that I failed. "I'm back, aren't I? And it certainly isn't because of your dreamy eyes."

He laughed outright. I felt the curious pleasure of actually having scored a point. Unfortunately, I knew that I was a liar. As much as I loved milkshakes, he was the real lure. Of course, he didn't have to know that, did he? His head seemed swollen enough as it was.

"So, you're usual,…" He paused, and I realized that he didn't know my name. How silly, I thought. All this time I'd known his and he never knew mine. At least he wanted to know it, I thought. That was a start.

"Serena." I said calmly, controlling my breathing against the frantic beating of my heart. He must be flirting with me, because that look in his eyes could melt stone. "And, yes, my usual."

Amy looked much like Raye had the first time we came here, and she looked at me with a genuinely confused expression.

"I'll explain later." I mouthed to her, when Darien's back was turned. Amy took her vanilla milkshake, and I took my strawberry-chocolate. Feeling the irresistible pull of it, I took a sip, aware of Darien's following my every move. Against my will, I closed my eyes, and realized that he had done it again.

"Darien, you're incredible!" I exclaimed after I had swallowed. Suddenly I realized what I had said and blushed to the roots of my hair. Oh my, so much for cool, calm and collected. He raised his eyebrow, and smiled at me.

"I'm glad you think so. Tell me, is it just my magical ability with strange milkshake flavors, or my dreamy eyes that makes you say so?"

"Ooohh," I growled, so mad that I seemed to have lost all power of speech. "You, you,"

"I, I, what?" He said, daring me.

"You are SO annoying." I huffed finally, aware that I had lost this round, badly. I knew it, but all I seemed to want to do was toss my shoe at him.

"Serena," Amy said, looking around warily. Other people had entered the shop during our fight and they were staring at us. "Let's sit down, OK?"

I looked at her sheepishly. "Sorry." I muttered, and avoiding eye contact with Darien, we sat down. He looked unruffled, and periodically, he looked at me and smiled in that smug way of his. I bridled, but felt oddly flattered that he would notice me so much. Maybe it was true again what Mina said—there was something between us. The store was incredibly crowded now; it seemed that lots of other students had decided that it was time for some ice cream. Or a glance at Darien, I thought, looking at some of the ditzy girls blatantly flirting with him. As I sipped my milkshake distractedly, I felt an irrational jealousy. He barely paid attention to most of them, and even the ones he did pay attention to, he didn't treat the way he treated me. I could see how he was a player, but I was really beginning to doubt that he had ever loved a woman.

"Serena? Are you all right?" Amy was saying, breaking me from my reverie.

"Oh, sorry Amy. Yeah, I'm fine."  
"Who is he, anyway?" She whispered, although there was no need to. Over the din, Darien couldn't have heard her if he tried.

"This guy. I don't know. I've only seen him two other times in my life. It's just…strange."

"I should say so. He is cute, though, isn't he?" She said, blushing into the table.

"Don't say that too loud," I said, just loud enough for Darien to hear me if he was listening. "If one more girl tells Darien that he's hot I have a feeling that his head will explode."

I didn't dare look at him, but in the corner of my eye, I saw him smile and wink at me. I felt irrationally happy, and sucked down the rest of my milkshake. Amy realized what I was doing and laughed to herself.

"Serena, you are crazy!" She said. I had to agree with her.

------------------------

A week later, Amy, Mina and I were sitting at a table at the ice cream parlor, Chemistry books before us. When I had told Mina that I had found a genius to explain Chemistry to me, she had invited herself along. She was in the professor's other class, and was having as hard a time of it as I was. Darien and I had already concluded round one of our merry war, and I had resigned myself to making cutting comments every now and then loud enough for him to hear. By this time Amy had heard the entire story and Mina had enlisted her for help in her matchmaking efforts. Unfortunately, Amy was a taskmaster, and refused to allow me to drift into my own happy dreamland. Darien watched the proceedings with amused interest, obviously wondering when I would give up. I was distracted by everything. Darien played the most incredible music, and every five minutes I interrupted Amy's patient voice with an "Omigod! I love this song!"

Despite all that, we got some work done. I was really glad that I had introduced myself to Amy. Not just because she was a genius, but also because she was a great friend. In the week that I had known her, I had introduced her to Mina and Raye and the four of us had become inseparable. It was strange, because we were all such different people, but we got along well. I couldn't seem to imagine college life without them. Raye wasn't with us because she—wisely, it seemed—had opted to take biology.

After I had heard enough about combustion reactions to last me a lifetime, I slammed my hands down on the table.

"All right, that's it!" I said, interrupting Amy who looked at me with a stricken expression. "Sorry Amy, but I can't take this any longer. I've got a better idea."  
"And what's that, Serena?" Mina asked, with something conspicuously resembling a sweatdrop above her head.

With a mischievous smile, I reached into my backpack. "Voila!" I said triumphantly, pulling out a copy of The Taming of the Shrew.

"You did say I could read Shakespeare with you." I said to Amy, with a grin on my face.

"Well, true…but, we haven't gotten very far…"

"Come on, Amy, lighten up!"

"Well, all right, but I haven't brought my copy."

My face fell, realizing that my plan would fall through. I just couldn't handle any more chemistry! I was going to go crazy! And then, when I least expected it, Darien came to my rescue.

"Well, you know," He said with something like shyness in his voice, although I never would have expected it. The three of us turned around and stared at him. He had been listening to us the entire time. To give him credit, he couldn't avoid it. We were practically screaming.

"I think I may have a copy with me."

I beamed at him. "Do you? Oh, that's fantastic! Could you please let Amy use it? Please, please, please?"  
"Serena," Amy said in an undertone, "don't worry, I think he will let us use it."  
"Oh," I said, blushing again. Why did I always have to do stupid things in his presence? He gave me one of his rare genuine smiles, and the world spun. Then he went to the back storage room, and we could hear him rustling around back there.

"Wow, girl," Mina said, leaning back in her chair. "You're got it bad, don't you? Hey, don't look at me like that. I see those goofy smiles you give him when you don't think he's looking."

"Shut up!" I said, in a loud whisper. "Do you want him to hear you?" I said frantically.

"Hear what?" He said easily, ducking under the counter. I glared at Mina and she looked back sheepishly.

"Nothing," I said, attempting to take the book from him. Unfortunately, to do so I had to walk uncomfortably close to him. For a prolonged moment I smelled the intoxicating scent of his cologne and felt my arm brush against his well-muscled chest. My breath caught when he took my hand, refusing to release the book.

"What do you say?" He asked, his face dangerously close to my own.

"Please?" I squeaked, my voice barely audible. From this close I could see how his own breathing was almost as ragged as mine. After a moment he released me, and walked to the counter again, pretending like nothing had happened. Amy stared at me in awe and Mina winked so obviously that I was tempted to throw the book at her.

"Well, come on, Amy, what are you waiting for?"

She shook off her shock and grabbed my book, walking to the middle of the floor. I realized, during the ensuing scene, that I was using his book, and it smelled like him. I only managed to keep half my mind on what I was doing. To top it all off, I grew more and more indignant at Shakespeare's overtly indignant comments. At the end of scene, Darien and Mina were practically in tears they were laughing so hard. So was the rest of our audience, consisting of various amused students.

"The highlight definitely had to be when you said 'I just can't believe that she would agree to kiss him in public after all she did to him,' and then refused to finish the scene!" Darien said, looking at me incredulously.

"Well, it's true! What kind of self-respecting shrew would take that kind of crap from a guy?"

"I don't think he was giving her crap. If anything, that last scene shows how much they genuinely love each other."

"You can't be one of those saps who thinks that this play is anything other than a sexist story of female domination?"

Darien laughed outright. "I guess I am, then. Because this sap thinks it's anything but a…what did you call it? 'sexist story of female domination'."  
I spluttered and my voice rose several decibels. "You're telling me that a man who starved, gorged and made his wife look like a fool is genuinely in love with her."

"Yes," He said, challenging me again.

"Well, tell me, Mr. Romance. Make a case for Petruchio's love."

"With pleasure," He said. By now we had a sizeable audience. Mina and Amy were pretty used to our antics, but everyone else just sat and stared. I looked at him, secretly exhilarated.

"When you first meet Kate, she is all fire. She doesn't listen to anyone. You know that she is beautiful, but no one can get within three feet of her without getting a chair tossed at his head. Petruchio, however, is not looking for love or beauty or even peace of mind. He is looking for money."

"Exactly!" I interrupted, "Money is by no means a motive for love."

"Isn't it?" He asked, looking at me, but talking to everyone. "Petruchio would never have met Kate if she hadn't been rich. He would never have dealt with such a shrew. Yet, because she was rich, he came to love her."

"If he really loved her, he would never have changed her into this docile, submissive creature."

"Did he really change her? Oh yes, I know you'll point to that terrible monologue of hers at the end. But take it in context. Petruchio wasn't rich, hence the reason why he needed a wealthy wife. However, he had come to love and trust Kate so much that he wagered all of his money against every one else's that she would listen when he called. And Kate loved him enough to pretend to believe it. They're teasing each other."

Darien looked so passionate as he said this, until I was nearly persuaded despite myself. I began to see what he saw as the romance in the play, but still, I refused to concede my point just yet.

"But why would a shrew like Kate ever fall in love with someone who dominated her? Petruchio exercised total control over her. Even if they are teasing each other, she would never tolerate it in the first place, if Shakespeare had been true to her character."

"She had finally found someone who could equal her in fury. She had finally found fire to match her fire, but in this case, the fire didn't go out, it just made a bigger one. Kate didn't want someone who would cringe and just listen to her. She wanted someone to stand up to her. She enjoyed fighting with him," He smiled at me. "She enjoyed their merry war."

I thought I was going to choke. Wasn't that exactly how I had thought of our relationship? Was he saying that the way we fought—it was the same thing? And suddenly I understood Kate. Suddenly I knew that she really had loved Petruchio, not hated him. Because he was the only person who stood up to her, just as Darien had said. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. I agreed with him now, but I could not admit it in front of all these people. I stared at Darien with a pleading look in my eyes, although I could not expect him to save my pride.

"Of course, I do admit one thing had to be true for the whole scenario to work—one that Shakespeare didn't mention." He said finally, still not relieving the tension.

"What's that?" I asked, unsure of where he was heading, but forced to trust him.

"Petruchio had to be damn good-looking!" The tension blew out of the room and everyone collapsed with laughter. I was laughing too, but Darien held my eyes with his, telling me in no uncertain terms that he knew what he had done.

He had saved me, for the second time that day.


	3. Kiss Me, Kate

BIG DISCLAIMER:

I am reposting my Sailor Moon fanfic _Fire_ at because the old site where I first posted it, A Sailor Moon Romance, has died. I wrote this over eight years ago, and while it will always hold a special place in my heart (the first novel I ever attempted), I sincerely hope that my writing has improved since then. On the other hand, at the time a lot of people wrote to me how much they liked it, and it seemed a shame that those people wouldn't be able to find it online anymore once ASMR died. HOWEVER, please think of this fic along the lines of a historical document. Especially if you found this because you like my Veronica Mars fiction...well, this is a little less sophisticated. On the other hand, it's fun, so what the hell :) I'm going to post a chapter a day until it's finished. (And if it seems to go over well, I might even put up my extensively revised version of _Fantasy_...which I'm sure about three people still remember, but comment if you'd like it).

ALSO...you might be interested to know that I have published an actual novel, in actual stores: Racing the Dark by Alaya Dawn Johnson (that's me, of course). If you like this, PLEASE consider buying it or at least telling your librarian to get a copy. A lot of novels get published each year, and it's so easy for them to get lost in the deluge. I'm afraid that's what's happening to my book, so if you like any of my stuff I hope you'll think about it. If you want to know more (and read the first three chapters), you can go to my website. It's my full name, "Alaya Dawn Johnson" without any spaces, dot com.

**[Thanks for the comments! But you know, my Amazon novel listing is getting kind of lonely... **

Chapter Three: Kiss me, Kate

Wednesday evening, after the interminable chemistry lab, became our appointed day for chemistry and Shakespeare reviews. Well, admittedly there was considerably more Shakespeare than chemistry, if I had anything to do with it, but sometimes Amy put her foot down. Since the first day, we use the ice cream parlor as our designated meeting place. The nights almost always ended in now-famous debates between Darien and me. Raye had taken to coming down just for the sake of the entertainment, and the occasional pleasure of reading Shakespeare with us. I had never thought that I would be grateful to be taking Chemistry, but I was. If I hadn't, after all, then I never would have met Amy and I never would have had these blissful Wednesday evenings with delicious milkshakes and a gorgeous debating partner. My debates really had become the subjects of countless emails and every once and a while I caught a jealous glance from various girls. I was ashamed to admit it, but it made me feel proud to be the girl he treated differently than all the rest. Even if he never acted around me like he felt the not-quite-plutonic sensations I felt around him, what I had was even better--I argued. I had a bond of the mind. Besides, I wouldn't want to be just one of his girls. I wished that I could believe he wasn't as much of a player as Mina had claimed, but almost every week I heard of another of his 'conquests'. The one comfort I had was that he was never with one girl for long. I knew that he believed in love--The Taming of the Shrew debate had told me that--it just seemed that he had never found it. I never talked to him about the subject. In fact, I conspicuously avoided the subject, afraid of what would happen if I opened that particular Pandora's box.

One Wednesday in November, I walked into the parlor, for once in my life the first one to get there. It was practically freezing outside, and I had bundled up a little excessively. Darien watched with characteristic amusement as I removed earmuffs, scarf, gloves, hat, and both coats. I plopped into the chair and sighed expressively.

"Wow, you sure aren't used to this weather, are you?"  
"I'm used to DC. The temperature drops below freezing there and school is closed for a week."

Darien laughed. "I know. Remember? I'm from around there too."

"Oh yes, peach boy, how could I forget?" Darien just smiled and went behind the counter. He came back and placed my milkshake in front of me. Even though it was cold outside, I couldn't resist the lure of a milkshake. To me, they were the drink for all seasons, although somewhat less appropriate in winter. This was strange, though, because usually he waited until I came in to make the milkshake. I looked at him with a surprised smile, and then dove under the table, where I had dumped all of my stuff.

"What are you doing under there, meatball head?" He asked, looking at my antics. I was tossing piles of clothing around haphazardly.

"Trying to find my wallet." I called, voice muffled by various articles of clothing. I had ceased to get annoyed when he called me that. It was kind of funny anyway, although my hairstyle was thoroughly impractical during winter.

"Hey, don't bother." He said softly, and I looked up at him. "I'll pay for it" He interrupted me when I started to protest, feeling a glow suffuse my body. "I get a discount anyway. And…I want to." He laughed self-deprecatingly, while I stared at him in awe from under the table. "You know not to get in my way when I want something, don't you?"

I smiled and nodded mechanically.

"Hey, are you going to get out from under there, or what? Your milkshake will melt." He left to serve a customer and I crawled slowly from under the table. I sat down carefully, still in shock over what he had done.

And just like that, I knew that I loved him. I knew that since that very moment I had seen him two years ago, I had loved him and that I loved him more every day. It didn't matter that he called me meatball head, or that he was always laughing at me. He was gentle, in his own way. And so passionate he made my head spin. I loved him. The realization was startling, and I held my milkshake tightly. I could have jumped for joy, or cried, or screamed at him or gone into hysterics, but I did none of these things. Instead, I sipped quietly and waited for Mina, Raye and Amy.

------------------------

A week later Mina was really exceeding herself in tactlessness. It was getting closer to Christmas, and therefore, to exams, and Amy had forced us to do nothing but Chemistry during the past few study sessions. I suppose just to let out some pent up energy, Mina continually said the most obvious things and made long suggestive winks to both Darien and me. He was simply amused, but I felt terribly embarrassed. I kept kicking her under the table, but she only winked at me harder, and made so many insinuations until I thought I might tape her mouth shut. Amy was no help either. She obviously thought that Mina was doing the right thing when it came to getting me and Darien together. All they were doing was embarrassing me. I didn't want him to know how much I liked him, but at the rate they were going, there was no way he could avoid knowing. This had been going on for three hours, and it was practically closing time. I knew, unfortunately, that that wouldn't stop them.

"Combustion reactions, huh?" Mina said, lowering her eyelid in that wink I had come to dread. "I can think of--" And I couldn't take any more.

"Darien!" I said, rather too loudly, but it shut Mina up.

"What?" He asked, barely concealing the laughter in his voice.

Well great, I hadn't really had a plan. I had only wanted to shut them up. Unfortunately, if I didn't say something soon, the torture would start again. I said the first thing that came into my head.

"Will you read with me?" Although the four of us put on performances nearly every Wednesday, Darien had not once participated. He did, however, seem to have an entire Shakespeare collection in that back room of his. We almost always borrowed from it, but he had never expressed any interest in play-acting with us. He looked at me hard, as if wondering where I was planning on going with this. I couldn't have told him--to tell the truth, I was as curious as he was.

"Sure," he said finally. "What do you have with you?"

"Titus Andronicus" I said, and he made a gagging noise. Well, I had to agree with him there. One of Shakespeare's lesser efforts. "Taming of the Shrew," I said, finally, wondering if he would realize why I had kept that particular play in my bag after all this time. He probably would, Darien realized everything. I found, to my surprise, that I didn't care.

"That sounds good," he said, and went to the back closet to pull it out. The parlor was more crowded than it usually was, even though it was several minutes past closing time. As I watched him jump over the counter, I wondered what would happen tonight. The waves were in my stomach stronger than they had been for a while, and an odd hush had fallen over our audience. It seemed that they knew, as well as I, that this would be a crowning glory performance.

"What scene?" I asked him, deliberately letting him decide. I saw the look he gave me--he knew why I had done that. He accepted the challenge.

"How about right before they attend the wedding, I think it's act five." [AN: this is, for all interested, Act 5, Scene 2, lines 145-156 Of course. When Darien does something, he does it well. That was easily the most romantic scene in the book, the scene that could convince even skeptics that Petruchio and Kate were in love. I took a deep breath. There was no question as to who would play which part. In fact, it was as if Shakespeare had written them just for us. We moved to the center of the floor, and all conversation died. Taking a deep breath, I began.

"Husband, let's follow to see the end of this ado." I barely looked at the book; I had already memorized this scene. Instead I stared in his eyes, trying to read what lay there.

"First kiss me Kate, and we will." And he said it just like he always did, with that subtle mockery that always held something deeper. But, this time, and I can't explain how he did it, you knew that he loved her--that he loved me, in fact. For this blissful moment, every one could tell that he was completely in love with me.

"What, in the midst of the street?" I said, looking around at everyone around us. There was a gentle ripple of laughter.

"What, art thou ashamed of me?" He asked, feigning hurt, and yet somehow conveying that he was genuinely upset at the same time. I couldn't believe that Darien had never acted with us before--he was incredible.

"No, sir, God forbid, but ashamed to kiss." And I looked at him longingly, yet sheepishly, obviously desiring him, but afraid to show it. He stepped in closer to me, until we were nearly touching. Neither of us looked at our books; we were too far gone.

"Why then" He teased, daring me with sidelong glances, "let's home again. Come, sirrah, let's away."

"Nay, I will give thee a kiss." I whispered, but everyone could hear me. Standing on my tiptoes, desperately aware of what I was doing, and yet unable to stop myself, I kissed him. And the world around me crumbled. We responded immediately to each other. Like he had said so long ago, fire meeting fire that only created a bigger one. It was an explosion. My book clattered to the ground. We reached into one another, my arms convulsively around his body and his around mine, kissing until we lacked the air to survive. His mouth was gentle and sweet, his tongue stroking my mouth with practiced precision. My body felt like it would explode with pent-up pressure. I opened to him immediately, quickly running out of air, but genuinely unwilling to give up the pleasure of his touch. I had never loved a man more than I had in that moment, and I knew I never could again. No one but Darien, after this moment, would ever satisfy me. I was vaguely aware of the catcalls and hoots in the background, but we were in our own world, and nothing could intrude. Reluctantly, his lips left mine, gently, and he placed me back on the ground. I was not even aware of having been lifted. Darien looked around the room, and in an instant, it was quiet again.

"Now pray thee love, stay." I said, in a hoarse whisper of unmasked love.

He took his long-fingered hands and lifted my face to his eyes. "Is this not well? Come my sweet Kate." It was no longer a play. It was my reality, and he was telling me what I had always wanted to hear--that he loved me. "Better once than never, for never too late." He kissed me again, to the sound of thunderous applause. It was over entirely too quickly, and I stared at him with unadulterated awe. He regained his composure more quickly than I, but I saw his hands shaking and his ragged breathing. Mechanically I smiled and bowed, and then collapsed in my seat again, unable to believe what had just happened.

"Go, Serena!" Mina said happily. "I knew you could do it." I looked at Darien, who was smiling at me in that way that made my legs turn to Jello. He winked at me, and then began bellowing for people to get the hell out of there. As the crowd reluctantly dispersed, several guys patted him chummily on the back and several girls gave me evil looks. I didn't care. I had just had my first kiss, and it had been the most incredible experience of my life.

"You too, girls." Darien said when we hadn't left. Exuding disappointment, I reached under the table to pull out my bag, when I felt his hand on my shoulder.

"Do you want to go?" He asked frankly, and my mouth felt horribly dry.

"No," I whispered hoarsely.

"Me neither." He said, and kissed me again.

------------------------

We didn't even notice when Amy, Mina and Raye left, and we were alone together. He lifted me up, easily, and sat me on the countertop. He kissed me lazily, his mouth completely encircling mine. My arms were still wrapped around him, like if I refused to let him go physically, he would never leave me. I did not want him to leave me. I honestly didn't know what I would do if he did. It was like he held my essence in his hands, and if he let me go, I would fall forever. I kissed him remorselessly, and gasped as he explored other parts of my face, his lips flitting from my eyelids to my neck. I whispered his name softly--too softly to hear, but somehow he knew. I sensed his smile and felt my entire body tremble. I didn't ever want this to stop. I always wanted to be with him here, existing completely within him and he within me. I never wanted to have to leave his arms or even come up for air. All too soon, however, he stopped, and held me at arm's length. He seemed about to say something, his eyes totally unmasked. There was a smile on his face, but it was completely genuine and without a trace of mockery. My lips remained parted, and I stared at him, waiting.

But his face regained his mask again and he wrenched violently away from me, releasing his grip from my shoulders. Not realizing that I had been leaning on him, I fell off the counter. I saw the floor rushing perilously close to my head, and I braced myself for impact. And just when I expected the pain to hit, I felt his arms around me. He lifted me gently, and pulled me to my feet. He lifted my face, and smiled, but I recognized that his mask was back into place. What had happened? I wondered with disappointment.

"You know, Serena, you really are a klutz." He said softly, and kissed me again. I wanted more--more than I could possibly have--but he stopped again, and turned abruptly away from me, shutting down the shop.

"You know, Darien." I said finally, when I had regained my breath and some semblance of composure. "You really are a sap."

He looked up from behind the counter, happily accepting the dare in my eyes. "A sap, am I? Well, we'll see about that. You go mummify yourself and I'll show you how much of a sap I am."

A grin split my face. "Really? What are you going to do? Something romantic, I hope?" I fidgeted slightly and clapped my hands. This was too much!

Darien looked at me and then laughed in that deep voice of his that made me want to jump him. I politely refrained, confident I would have an opportunity soon. "So I'm the sap, huh? You just wait and see."

Excitedly, I grabbed my sweater, two coats, mittens, gloves, hat, earmuffs and scarf. Darien laughed again as I waddled to the counter, eager to see what he had planned.

"Well, are you finished already? Let's go!" I said, my voice somewhat muffled by the layers of clothing.

"All right, all right!" He said, looking nearly as eager as I. He went to the back closet, got out a leather jacket and some gloves.

"Aren't you going to be too cold?" I said, concerned. "Here, take one of my jackets."

"Don't worry, I don't get cold easily." He said, shutting off the lights.

"Well, at least take my scarf." I insisted, holding it out to him. As I reflected on it, I wondered at the appropriateness of the offering. It was bright pink, with little bunnies printed on it in white. However, it was too late to reconsider. He paused, and I didn't dare look him in the eye. I understood Darien a little now. He hated to depend on anyone, and hated to be thought in need of anything. He wanted to appear totally self-sufficient, but he wasn't, not really. So I didn't look in his eyes, and didn't see the look of indignant pride that I knew was there. But he must have been touched, somehow, because he took it silently, and shut off the last light. For a moment we stood together in the dark, and I dared to look into his eyes. They were eerie in the moonlight, looking like pools of black water.

"Thank you." He said finally. My muffled hand held his. I knew how much that had cost him.

------------------------

"This is incredible!" I screamed over the wind and the roar of the motorcycle. My hands were wrapped securely around his waist, as much for the feel of his body underneath his jacket as for safety. My pigtails soared happily behind me and I threw my head back and laughed in unadulterated glee. This was the best day of my life, hands down. I was with the man I loved, riding down a highway on his motorcycle in the middle of the night to God knows what destination. I could feel his laughter on my hands, traveling through my body and making me laugh even harder. We seemed, again, to exist in harmony.

"I love you!" I shouted into his ear, suddenly, without thinking. I could feel him hold his breath and his sudden tension. He smiled back at me, though, and I breathed in relief. Not until much later would I realize that his reaction had been a warning. Although I thought I understood Darien, there was a part of him that he had closed off to me. It was that part that kept his fire in check, that part that stopped him from giving me all of himself. He suddenly veered off the highway and down several backcountry roads.

"Where are we going?" I asked, trusting him absolutely, but curious.

"Just wait." He called, keeping his eyes on the road.

I could tell that we had been skirting the edge of the shore for a while, and it seemed like he was inching his way closer to it. Finally, in a place absent of both houses and lights, he stopped. Taking my hand, we walked for a little while down a dirt path through the woods on the side of the road.

"Where are we?" I asked, my teeth chattering. Darien smiled.

"Look." He said, eyeing me speculatively. And I looked. We were on the edge of a small inlet, rocks on either side and in the water immediately surrounding made it obvious that it was not a hospitable place to either sailboats or the tourist industry. It was like a last vestige of the untouched beauty that this shore must once have held. In the cold, glittering light of stars and moonlight it looked eerie, like a gate into another world. The waves crashed on the rocks creating a glittering cascade of pearl foam, slowly trickling back into the sea. I released the breath I had not realized I had held.

"Darien," I breathed, my breath crystallizing in the air. "It's incredible."  
His hand held mine. "I'm glad you like it."

I came dangerously close to telling him that I loved him again, but something held me back. After a while, staring in silence, we walked onto the sand, barely out of reach of the waves.

"Now, Serena," He said softly, warming my shuddering body with his own by hugging me from behind. "Look up."

I wondered if he had planned this from the start. If he had known how to do everything that would make me fall more in love with him than I already had. But no, this is Darien, I thought. He made me fall desperately in love with him just by being himself. So I looked up.

I had never seen so many stars in my life. There are far too many lights in Georgetown and downtown DC; I'd never had a chance to see the night sky like this. Of course I had heard about it and read about it in books, but I had never seen the fully glory of the sky before that night. He hugged me tightly as I stared, too mesmerized to even speak. It was as if God, in some demented, wild moment, had sprayed the heavens with pure droplets of beauty. They were crazy and formless, and beautiful because of it. The moon hung low in the sky, pregnant. Darien seemed to notice it at the same time I did.

"You remind me of the bunny in the moon." He whispered into my hair.

"The bunny?" I said, turning my head to look at him. He stared into space, remembering something painful.

"In Japan, they say there is a bunny in the moon, not a man like Westerners think." I was shocked at the way he had said 'in Japan' like Japan was his home. But it wasn't, was it? I knew he lived near DC. He wasn't looking at me, and didn't notice my confusion.

"Do you see it?" He asked, gesturing towards the moon. I looked up again. At first I only saw the lips and eyes I had been taught to see. But as he described the bunny, I began to see it. The floppy ears and hands formed, and suddenly, there it was--like it had always been there, but just out of reach.

"I do!" I said finally, my voice still quiet but excited.

"Yes, that's what you are." He said, musing. " Tsuki no Usagi."

He spoke the Japanese with a perfect accent.

------------------------

We lay on the sand, intertwined within one another. Well, as much as was possible within all the confining layers of clothing I wore. His lips gently brushed over my hair and face, his arms gripping me tightly.

"Do you know I've never brought anyone else here?" He said.

I couldn't think of an answer. It was possibly the most flattering thing anyone had said to me. He had let me into his own personal world, one I knew he guarded jealously. He didn't seem to need an answer though, and we kissed again. Something exploded within us during that kiss. It was like the desires that we both had been suppressing came boiling to the surface. Fire met fire and we began to strip each other almost simultaneously. Although it was below freezing, I was burning up inside, attacked by heat from all angles. I had never been so consumed with passion. It was unavoidable; we could not stop ourselves any more than a man can stop a train.

Most of my clothes lay strewn around me, and I had gotten rid of Darien's jacket and shirt. The scarf he kept, and wrapped it around my head, pulling me closer to him. Slowly, he unbuttoned my last shirt and bra, freeing my breasts. My nipples hardened almost immediately, coming into contact with the cold air. I sucked in my breath, but he caught my mouth with his, and I forgot all about the cold. My lips trailed down his chest and back up again, exploring places I had dreamed of for years. We drifted together. I felt as if the sound of the waves breaking over the rocks was really the sound of me, jumping in and out on his tide. Except it began to sound more like the roar of a fire, one that only burned brighter as the wind blew it. Years passed, it seemed, and then mere seconds. Time was an illusion that burned us, forced us to linger and then hurry. I abandoned myself to him, entrusted my soul to him. There was no turning back from this. He would always be a part of my life.

And then, he stopped. We had gone further than I ever had before, clinging to each other like our only hope, and he stopped. With a wrench that left me gasping, he released me and pulled away. Tears formed and then crystallized on my face, as I looked at him. He was on his knees, breathing hard. My heart felt as if it had been ripped from its rightful place and tossed into my stomach, to be digested. I could not understand why he had broken away. Was he disgusted with me? Was I too inexperienced for him? But I had felt it, our mutual passion, our mutual love. Why was he unwilling to give me that? I could not speak, when I tried to form words, they came out in a shapeless squawk that sounded more like the cry of a lonely animal. He looked at me, desperation in his eyes, a little wild. After what seemed like eternity, he gripped the sand convulsively and then spoke.

"I'm…sorry, Serena. You--you're not like them. I just…I just can't do this to you." His breathing was labored, and in the moonlight, I saw a tear escape from his clear eyes, and trickle down his face.

Whispering his name painfully, I crawled nearer, and wiped the tear with my hand. In a strange gesture, I tasted it. He took my hand in his own, and blue met blue again with an explosive fire.

"But…kiss me, please?" He said, urgently. "Kiss me, Tsukino Usagi."


	4. Another World

BIG DISCLAIMER:

I am reposting my Sailor Moon fanfic _Fire_ at because the old site where I first posted it, A Sailor Moon Romance, has died. I wrote this over eight years ago, and while it will always hold a special place in my heart (the first novel I ever attempted), I sincerely hope that my writing has improved since then. On the other hand, at the time a lot of people wrote to me how much they liked it, and it seemed a shame that those people wouldn't be able to find it online anymore once ASMR died. HOWEVER, please think of this fic along the lines of a historical document. Especially if you found this because you like my Veronica Mars fiction...well, this is a little less sophisticated. On the other hand, it's fun, so what the hell :) I'm going to post a chapter a day until it's finished. (And if it seems to go over well, I might even put up my extensively revised version of _Fantasy_...which I'm sure about three people still remember, but comment if you'd like it).

ALSO...you might be interested to know that I have published an actual novel, in actual stores: Racing the Dark by Alaya Dawn Johnson (that's me, of course). If you like this, PLEASE consider buying it or at least telling your librarian to get a copy. A lot of novels get published each year, and it's so easy for them to get lost in the deluge. I'm afraid that's what's happening to my book, so if you like any of my stuff I hope you'll think about it. If you want to know more (and read the first three chapters), you can go to my website. It's my full name, "Alaya Dawn Johnson" without any spaces, dot com.

And without any further ado...

Chapter Four: Another World

I walked through the next week in a haze of delirium. Sometimes I was explosively happy, and at others I was irrepressibly sad. I was always confused. Darien's actions on the secluded beach had confused me, and no matter how much I thought about it, I still did not understand what had happened. Although I was a virgin, I had wanted him so badly that night. I knew that he had wanted me too, and from what I had heard, I had not thought he had any qualms about it. But he had stopped, and left me to grasp at the pieces of our desire. We had not gone nearly so far since then, in fact, we had not had the chance. It was strange, actually meeting him on campus--I had always associated him with the ice cream parlor. But we could not seem to get away from each other, and were together nearly every spare moment. It was those times with him that I was happiest, existing as a whole person. It really did seem that I was not quite complete without him, like I was an unfinished poem, or an open circle. He completed me and made me full. But he confused me and was different from me in ways I could not understand. I knew that behind those eyes lurked a painful past that he refused to talk about, even to me. I needed to know. He was hurting, and I could tell, no matter how well he hid it, that something in our relationship was slowly destroying him. We kissed like we were drowning, and the other was our only insurance against death. Perhaps, on some emotional level, it was true.

But then it was exam week, and even lovers had to study. Amy was hard pressed to keep my attention on the subject, and she refused to allow us to study at Glifford's, knowing that she would lose me entirely. We only reviewed Shakespeare as a treat, since she knew perfectly well that that was my best subject. Chemistry received considerably more attention, to my annoyance. Mina felt like I did about the subject, but we dutifully balanced equations and formed orbitals. Raye had decided to come and study with us as well, and the four of us became permanent fixtures of the library that week.

"Serena," Mina said, during one of our breaks, "I still can't get over how romantic you and Darien are. Everyone's talking about you two, you know."

"Mina!" Amy exclaimed. She was just as curious as the rest of them, but hid it better. "Don't harass her!"

"I don't mind, Amy." I said, actually relieved to be able to discuss Darien again.

"Well, I always knew it was going to happen." Mina continued, looking smug. "Anyone could tell from the way you guys look at each other that it was meant to be."

I blushed, but felt inexplicably grateful that she thought so. As unsubtle as Mina could be, she was usually right on the mark about these things. Raye, who had not looked up during our conversation, made some sort of noise after Mina's remark.

"What's that, Raye?" I asked, turning to her. She had been behaving oddly ever since that night at the ice cream parlor.

"Never mind." She muttered, and buried her face inside her textbook.

Amy, unexpectedly, broke the silence.

"You two certainly seem happy together. Do you love him?" I stared at her, startled at the question. But these were my friends. I could tell them the truth, couldn't I?

"Yes." I answered, finally. "More than I can handle, I think." Amy and Mina looked at me with perfect understanding, but we were all startled when Raye slammed her textbook down on the table.

"Will you saps just shut up! Just shut up already about stupid Serena and Darien, and stupid true love!" She shouted, and everyone else in the library stared at her in surprise. With flashing eyes, Raye grabbed her books and stalked away.

"What the hell was that all about?" Mina asked, staring after her.

"I don't know, Serena, do you? You're her roommate. Has she been acting strange lately?"

At first I was about to say no, but then I realized that they were right. Only, I had been to involved in my dream world to notice. "I--think so." I said, slowly. She was jealous of Darien and me. That was the only answer, and one I should have seen coming. She had always looked uncomfortable when we argued back and forth in the parlor and her expression while she was leaving the last time had been one of disgust. She liked Darien, and I had stolen him from her.

"Listen," I said urgently, getting up. "I'll go talk to her, all right? Just wait here." I rushed out of the library to the hallway she had exited from. I looked up and down, but there was no sign of her. The only other place she could be was the bathroom, so I walked inside. I jumped when I heard someone else open the door behind me.

"Raye?" I called, but when I turned around fully I saw who it was. Not Raye, but Beryl , an obnoxious girl in my Shakespeare class who I had seen Darien flirting with a couple of times. I had assumed that she was one of his many girlfriends. Before he met me, of course, because if I was just another one of his girls, I would never be able to live with myself.

"Hi Serena." Beryl said flippantly, eyeing me with the kind of look that made me want to glance over my shoulder to see if someone was attacking me.

"Hi, Beryl." I said uncomfortably, edging towards the door. Why was she talking to me? I had to find Raye, but she was blocking my way out.

"Wait a minute, Serena." She said my name with this edge in her voice that alarmed me. "We need to talk."

"No we don't." I insisted. "I'm busy right now, all right. We can talk later, if it's so important."

"It is so important." She insisted, resolutely blocking the door with her arms on her hips. Her red hair tumbled down her back in a fashion that I'm sure many guys would appreciate but made me even more annoyed.

"Listen Beryl--" I began, really frustrated.

"No, you listen. I hear that you are under the impression you've finally nabbed Darien."

"Nabbed him?" I asked incredulously. "I haven't nabbed anyone. We're going out. It was a mutual agreement."

Beryl raised her eyebrows. "I'm sure it was. Not many girls would refuse to go out with Darien Chiba. In fact, there are so few, that Darien--out of the goodness of his heart, I'm sure--goes out with several at a time. And not for very long at that."

My heart sank straight into my stomach. I knew that I would have to face this some time, I knew that however sure I was of him, every one else would think he was using me just like he had used everyone else. If I were to be honest to myself, I would have realized that I wasn't quite sure of him either. I had seen him flirt with so many girls, and I had heard countless stories of his exploits. I refused to share my doubts with Beryl, however. I knew all she was trying to do was get Darien for herself. For a moment the absurdity of the situation struck me. I was actually fighting over a guy! Well if it had to be anyone, I was glad that it was Darien.

"Beryl, I don't know what agenda you have, but it's not going to work. I know that Darien loves me," actually, he had never said so, and flinched when I did, but now was not the time to mention that either. "And that whatever he may have done in the past, he's not doing it anymore. So, if you thought you could intimidate me into dumping him so you could 'nab' him for yourself, you've got something else coming."

And with that, I forced my way out the door, rewarded with the small satisfaction of seeing Beryl completely flustered and at a loss.

------------------------

I finally found Raye, several hours later. Well, actually, she found me. After giving up the search, I had gathered up my books and trudged back to my dorm. The Chemistry exam was tomorrow, and I was just as prepared as I was going to get. Despite that, I crammed nervously for a few more hours, waiting and hoping that Raye would come back eventually. I had to talk to her. I didn't know what I was going to say, but I had come to value our friendship, and I didn't want to see it torn apart by a guy. Finally, around eleven she walked through the door.

"Raye--"

"Serena--" We said simultaneously. We looked at each other, and a smile cracked our faces.

"We need to talk." She said quietly, and sat down on her bed.

"Yeah." I agreed, and waited.

"Well, I guess, I sort of had a crush on Darien." She said finally. I didn't say anything. "And, not like it was very big or anything, he's not my type, but the more I saw you two together, the more jealous I got. But then, I didn't think anything would ever happen, and when it did, I guess I got sort of angry. See, nothing like that ever happens to me. It's not like I really wanted Darien, but I do want the type of romance that you have with him. And then, today, when I had been thinking about it and getting angrier and angrier, Mina and Amy had to start talking about it and…well, I guess I went a little crazy."

I resisted the temptation to snort, but she caught my expression.

"All right, maybe a lot crazy. But, I can't say that it's all better now, but I took a walk, I calmed down. I want to be your friend, Serena. I really do, and I definitely don't want some stupid guy to tear us apart. Even though we fight sometimes, you're pretty cool."

I don't know exactly what set us off. Raye wasn't nearly as emotional as I, but in that moment, we suddenly burst into tears simultaneously. We hugged each other, and for a moment, the world sat right side up again. It was, however, a fleeting pleasure.

------------------------

The chemistry exam went remarkably well, but I left the test knowing that science was not meant for Serena Johnston. There was only one more exam left, and that was Shakespeare. Considering that I knew every play we had studied practically by heart, and then some, I wasn't too worried. Mina, Raye and Amy, however, still had to study, which left me with some free time on my hands and nothing to do with it. I thought I would go and find Darien, since I hadn't seen him for two days, although we had called each other. He was on the pre-med track, and taking super-advanced courses. I didn't really want to bother him when he needed to study, but I knew that he was having his easiest exam last, like I was. Besides, if I didn't see him today, he might leave for Christmas without ever seeing me. Resolved, I ran all the way to Johnston hall--I had always thought it a sign that his dorm hall had my last name. I sprinted up the stairs to the top floor, too cold and impatient to wait for the elevator. When I finally ran, gasping to his room, I saw that the door was partly open. Calling out his name loudly and happily, I pushed the door open the rest of the way and walked inside.

"It's me, your lovely, wonder--" I stopped mid-word when I saw him. He wasn't alone. He was pressed against a wall, his hands by his sides, and on top of him was Beryl.

They were kissing.

I recognized this in a split instant, and already, Darien had moved to push Beryl off of him. He shoved her ruthlessly down on the floor and called my name. I hadn't said anything. I hadn't even moved. So it was true then. Everything that Beryl had said had been true. I felt cheated, humiliated and betrayed. I stared at him, my mouth open, but no sounds able to form. Suddenly the world had collapsed, and it had buried my broken body under a pile of grief.

"Serena, it's not like you think!" He began, running to me and grabbing my hands. The grip galvanized me, and I wrenched mine away.

"Oh, isn't it? She tried to warn me," I pointed to Beryl, "But I didn't listen! I trusted you, Darien. You fucking asshole, I trusted you! I love you, and you do this to me. You're not worth anything!" I screamed, tears finally streaming down my face. "Not even a piece of trash like her!" Darien's mouth was open, like a startled deer, and I ran away from him, blinded by tears and anger. I heard his heavy footsteps behind me and his voice calling my name. He sounded upset. Damn right he should sound upset, I thought angrily to myself. I ran even harder, trying to get away. I never wanted to see him again. Maybe I could forget him, if I tried hard enough. Never mind that I had thought I would kill myself if I were forced to live without him. I pounded my way to the steps, aware of Darien right behind me. In my frantic state, however, I was not looking where I was going. As I saw the stairs rushing towards my face, I thought, fatalistically, that at least I would not have to live any longer with this ripping feeling in my chest. Unfortunately, I did not die, and I tumbled headlong down the steps. My ankle twisted painfully beneath me, and I shrieked. Then, just as soon as it had begun, I landed with a thud at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the ceiling with a glazed expression.

"Serena!" I heard Darien's voice calling me as he rushed down the stairs. Squeezing my eyes shut, I turned my head away from him.

"Are you all right?" He asked urgently, gently sitting me up. As much as I responded to the touch, I wrenched myself away from him and sat up.

With as much pride as I could muster, considering my undignified position and tear-stained face, I answered. "I am fine, Mr. Chiba." And I attempted to stand up. However, the moment I put my weight on my right ankle, I gasped, and would have fallen again if Darien hadn't caught me. Damn it! I would have to sprain my ankle at a time like this, I thought sullenly.

"You're hurt." He said, in such a way that made me look at him. Did he care for me after all?

"I'm fine." I insisted, and grit my teeth as I attempted to walk again. Since I was expecting the pain it was a little better this time, and I walked away from him with a pronounced limp.

"Serena, for god's sake, you have no idea what went on in there! Let me help you."

"I am not going to let a player like you," he flinched at the word player and I leaned against the opposite wall for support, "take care of me. I am fine, and I do not need your help, Darien. Not now, not ever!" I turned to walk gingerly down the rest of the steps, with the aid of the banister, but my ankle treacherously gave out again, and I felt Darien's arms wrap around me.

"Let me go!" I shouted, struggling.

"Serena," He said, his voice tired and hurt. "If you want to hate me forever, go ahead. If you don't want to listen to me, do that too. But I will not allow you to hurt yourself any more because of me. If you don't let me help you, I'm going to make you, do you hear me?"

Surprised at his show of emotion, I nodded silently. I was surprised, but still angry. It caught me unawares when Darien put his hand under my knees and lifted me to his chest. I gripped him involuntarily.

"What are you doing?" I squeaked, angry that I still felt a thrill being so close to him. It might be harder to forget him than I thought.

"You can't walk, Serena. I'm taking you back to my dorm." He said, and with that, proceeded to walk up the stairs and back down the hall. It was strange, I thought over the throbbing in my ankle, how wonderfully strong he was. I wanted him to hold me forever, although I knew the thought was dangerously anti-feminist. Beryl had obviously left his room almost right after I had, and the door was still open. He put me gently on the bed, and closed the door. He turned to look at me with an expression of pain in his eyes.

"You didn't have to go and do that." He said finally, pulling out a first aid kit. "You could have tried to listen to me, Serena. It really wasn't what it looked like."

I wanted to believe him so badly, but I was afraid that he would just lie to me, that I wasn't really important to him. But perhaps it was the way he had looked when I fell down the steps or the way he was looking now, I just had to give him a chance.

"All right, then, you've got me where you want me. I'm trapped here. If you want to defend yourself, you might as well do it now, because I'm sure as hell not going to listen to you any other time." I used the sarcasm as a defense, although I was still dangerously close to tears.

I was expecting him to talk, but he stayed silent for a while, walking over to the bed, and putting the first aid kit next to him. He picked up my foot gently, and removed the shoe and socks. He grinned slightly, despite himself, when he saw that I was wearing two pairs of socks. He was clinical for a while, examining my ankle and asking me when it hurt.

"It's just a sprain, not too bad." He said finally, still avoiding my eyes. I couldn't help but think that the way he touched my foot was subtly sexual, sending tremors through my body. I resisted the temptation to close my eyes. Slowly he took out an ace bandage and wrapped my ankle with it tightly. His hands were so gentle, and each time he touched me it felt like a stroke. It seemed, I thought suddenly, that I was getting turned on despite myself. Finally he replaced both of my socks and sat back on his heels. After a second he dared look up at me. I suppose that my expression was less forbidding because he took a deep breath and began to explain.

"I wasn't really kissing her--" he said. I snorted. "Serena, you promised you'd listen. About five minutes before you came up, Beryl came in. She said that she had a question about the Psychology exam. I--well, I'd been planning to tell Beryl to stop bugging me. We were involved…a long time ago, and she just kept hanging on. Except when I was about to say something, she started talking about you and about how you were…using me."

"Using you?" I said incredulously. "You're the player, not me."

Darien had the courtesy to blush. "That wasn't how she meant it. I've never thought of you like that, Serena. I've been as, hell, more celibate than a monk since I met you. Well, since the second time I met you, at least."

"You still haven't explained why you kissed her. Or didn't kiss her, as the case may be."

"I'm getting to that. So, anyway, I got mad at her. I told her that she had no idea what you were like, and I told her to go away. I stood up, and she just catapulted herself at me. I was about to push her off when you came in. That was what you saw."

I swear I heard angels singing when he said that. Even so… "Are you telling the truth?" I asked, in a small voice. I couldn't handle it if something like this happened again.

He looked at me and smiled, as if aware how close he was to winning me over. "What do you think?" he asked. Happy again, I sat gingerly on the floor and put my arms around him.

"I think I'll never doubt you again." I said quietly into his chest.

"Besides," he said lightly, lifting my face, "you know I'm a better kisser than that, don't you?" He said, demonstrating.

I laughed. "I think I've learned quite nicely, don't you?"

"Of course. We fit together perfectly." He was joking, but his statement rang like truth. After some time he broke off, and carried me to the bed. For a moment I wondered if he had something more in mind, but there was none of that kind of desire in his eyes. I sighed, disappointed. He lay next to me and wrapped me in his arms, and I could tell that he was fighting within himself. I knew it, and I was scared, because this side of Darien was closed to me. I held him tighter, wondering what he was thinking about. Finally, he kissed me, over and over with such passion that I wondered if I had been wrong. But he stopped, and stared straight into my eyes.

"I love you, Usako." He said. He loved me. I could have jumped, or sang or cried, but I did none of that. Instead, I wiped tears from my face.

"Of course you do." I said, finally. "We were meant for each other."

I could not hear what he said next because it was so faint. But it sounded something like "I hope

so."

And then something occurred to me. Something that had been bugging me for a week, but I had been too preoccupied to notice.

"What does Usako mean?"

He looked at me, and stroked my meatballs gently. "It means my little bunny." He said softly.

"Where did you learn Japanese?" I asked, after a moment of struggle within myself. The now-familiar pain clouded his eyes.

"In another world."

------------------------

Both of our exams were in the morning. We spent the rest of the day together, acutely aware that we would not see each other for nearly three weeks. Although we lived about two hours away from each other, his grandfather needed the car for errands every day, and he needed help managing some farm expenses. I would be busy at hateful society events with my political father, although I didn't mention it to Darien. The primaries were practically upon us, and I saw my father's face more and more often in the newspapers. Currently, he was the second most popular Republican candidate and steadily growing. It was funny how I was the product of a solidly GOP background, and I was such a left wing liberal. Political arguments at our dinner table grew so heated that dad had forbidden me from discussing politics with him except during special circumstances. I resented being forced to behave as some sort of trophy daughter, playing ideal subservient, attentive child to all of the potential donors and other VIP's. I much preferred the company of Darien, but we knew that it couldn't last. He was taking the five o'clock train. My father had wanted a grand reception, so against my will, he had booked a plane ticket for seven o'clock. I promised Darien that I would see him off. We exchanged addresses so we could write letters to each other, since he didn't have email on the farm. I got his telephone number, although I knew he probably couldn't afford many long-distance calls. I said goodbye to Amy, Mina and Raye, whose flights were all later. I still had a fairly pronounced limp from the day before, so I grabbed my suitcase and limped down the street to where Darien was waiting for me. His face brightened when he saw me, and we took the metro into Boston together. [AN: I don't know if there is a train station in Cambridge, so I just decided to use the one in Boston. I discovered within myself a desire to just touch him, every part of him, like I wanted to remember what he felt like when I could not be with him. I breathed more deeply when he was near me, trying to impress every subtle nuance of his smell on my memory. His face, of course, was already so deeply etched in my mind that I could never forget it.

"Darien, I'm going to miss you." I said, burying my head into his arm.

He laughed. "It's only three weeks, we'll survive, I'm sure, away from our passionate embraces." I was forced to smile. Well, perhaps I was over dramatizing the situation. "But…I'll miss you too." He finished.

"You make me SO happy!" I squealed. The metro ground to a halt at the train station, and we stepped out together, arm in arm. He led me past several terminals and up an escalator before we reached his platform. As I looked around, I realized that I had not idea how we got there. Not only did I have an abominable sense of direction to begin with, but I had also been paying entirely too much attention to Darien and not nearly enough to the path we were taking. I realized that I did not have much of an idea of how to get back to the metro. Darien's train was already boarding. In fact, it was only ten minutes to five. Darien was about to kiss me goodbye when panic got the better of me.

"Darien, wait! I don't know how to get back to the metro!"

"What do you mean? We just walked from there."

I blushed. How was I supposed to say 'I was too busy looking at your body and trying to smell you to notice where we were going?' Yeah right, that wouldn't go over too well.

"I have a bad sense of direction?" My voice went up at the end, making it sound like a question. Darien's mouth quirked upwards, and I had a sinking suspicion that he knew why I hadn't been paying attention. Before he could say anything, though, an attendant who had been listening in on our conversation, interrupted.

"Um, excuse me, but I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. I would be happy to lead you back to the metro terminal if you need some help." I turned to him and gave him a bright smile.

"Thank you so much! See," I said, turning to Darien, "everything is taken care of."

The man's face changed when he saw me into an expression of puzzlement, and then recognition. "Um, miss, would you perhaps be Ken Johnston's daughter?" He asked. For a second I didn't realize why he was asking, and then I remembered about the election. Of course, it was inevitable that I would have some celebrity status so close to the primaries. Darien was looking at me with a dreadfully blank expression that made my stomach tighten even further. Plastering a phony smile onto my face, I nodded at the man, momentarily ignoring Darien.

"Yes, that's me. How did you know?" I genuinely was curious, since no one else at school had mentioned anything.

"Well, I'm a big supporter of your father, you know, I just think that he's definitely the man to lead the country, and since I knew he had a daughter at Harvard, I just thought you may be her."

Darien interrupted any further stream of praise the man might have uttered by muttering a perfunctory 'excuse me' and dragging me roughly aside.

"What is it?" I asked, afraid of something I couldn't quite name. The train whistle was blowing. He had only a few moments before the train left him behind.

"Why didn't you ever tell me that you were Ken Johnston's daughter?"

"You never asked. Besides, I thought you already knew. Why does it matter?" But I wondered if on some level, I knew why it mattered, and that was why I had never spoken to him of it.

"How could I have known?" His voice was low, and his grip on my arm was painful.

"But, you met him!" I protested, scared beyond reason. "At the peach stand, you met my father. You've seen his picture, you must have recognized him."

Realization dawned in his face, along with horror. "Of course." He muttered. "I knew that he looked familiar. I just never put the two together."

"Darien, I don't know what's going on, but you're scaring me and you're train is going to leave in about thirty seconds."

He just stared at me.

"Kiss me goodbye, please?" I begged, my eyes beginning to feel wet. Abandoning himself, he picked me up and let his lips embrace mine. It was not gentle like his other kisses. It was more demanding, almost desperate. He did not look back when he put me back down again and ran to the train. I waved anyway, as the train left the station, leaving me alone on the platform with the strange man. Numbly, I allowed him to lead me back to the metro. But the entire way there I could only seem to think one coherent thought.

What the hell had just happened?


	5. Correspondence

BIG DISCLAIMER:

I am reposting my Sailor Moon fanfic _Fire_ at because the old site where I first posted it, A Sailor Moon Romance, has died. I wrote this over eight years ago, and while it will always hold a special place in my heart (the first novel I ever attempted), I sincerely hope that my writing has improved since then. On the other hand, at the time a lot of people wrote to me how much they liked it, and it seemed a shame that those people wouldn't be able to find it online anymore once ASMR died. HOWEVER, please think of this fic along the lines of a historical document, and especially if you found this because you like my Veronica Mars fiction...well, this is a little less sophisticated. On the other hand, it's fun, so what the hell :) I'm going to post a chapter a day until it's finished. (And if it seems to go over well, I might even put up my extensively revised version of _Fantasy_...which I'm sure about three people still remember, but comment if you'd like it).

ALSO...you might be interested to know that I have published an actual novel, in actual stores: Racing the Dark by Alaya Dawn Johnson (that's me, of course). If you like this, PLEASE consider buying it or at least telling your librarian to get a copy. A lot of novels get published each year, and it's so easy for them to get lost in the deluge. I'm afraid that's what's happening to my book, so if you like any of my stuff I hope you'll think about it. If you want to know more (and read the first three chapters), you can go to my website. It's my full name, "Alaya Dawn Johnson" without any spaces, dot com.

**[Sorry there weren't any scene breaks before! I didn't realize that they stripped out number marks. I've fixed the earlier chapters, so if the story seemed extremely confusing you might want to go back and check :)**

Chapter Five: Correspondence

Darien,

What happened yesterday, just before you left? I couldn't really get to sleep last night, thinking about it. You confuse me so damn much, do you know that? One moment I think you love me, the next you hate me. What are you thinking? Don't you trust me by now? It doesn't matter that I'm Ken Johnston's daughter, does it? If it's any consolation, I disagree with practically everything he thinks about politics. I probably won't even vote for him, although I won't tell him that. I would so much rather be with you than here. I've never been on a farm, well not since I was six years old, anyway. I'd like to never have to dress up again, to never have to kiss up to imbecilic VIP's, to just be myself. I bet that I would enjoy it, especially during peach season. I thought I hated my world before, but now it's become practically unbearable. Yesterday, after I got off the plane, my dad practically had an entourage to greet me. I haven't dared look at the papers, but I know my picture is probably glaring from some back page. I was so angry at him for using me like that, but he wouldn't listen to me. I know that he tipped those reporters, so they would catch him in a 'fatherly' moment. I should have just taken the train in, like I wanted, and not told him about it. I should have gone home with you. Darien, the thought is making me unbearably lonely--I wish that I could spend Christmas at your farm. It sounds so romantic. Do you cut down your own Christmas tree? Here my mom just breaks out the same fake one we've used for years. It's top of the line--at least, that's what dad always says to the guests--but I've always wanted a real tree. I like the way they smell. But the fake tree is just one more aspect of this entire charade. Sometimes I think that I really hate politics. Why can't you be a real person and still be president? It's not like I think my dad would make a bad president, he's a good person, but I think that he is so far removed from real people. He surrounds himself with other political yuppies like himself, and then pretends to understand the 'common man'. It doesn't work, you know? I know that you'll probably laugh at me, but I always think of your life as the way mine ought to be. I know it's hard to be a farmer--I know politicians don't help them much--but at least it's real. None of this glittering, glamorous, fake lifestyle. Sorry, my mom is bugging me to get dressed now--I have to go to another one of those interminable cocktail parties. I love you, Darien, but you already know that.

Serena

P.S. I just thought of the perfect Christmas gift for you! Don't worry, you'll love it, I swear!

------------------------

Darien,

I feel so silly, writing to you every day, but I can't seem to get you out of my head, and even when I'm not holding a pen, I'm thinking about the letters. I hope that you're thinking about me, because I don't want to be alone in this. Well, let me tell you about what happened last night. The cocktail party was a complete disaster, first of all. I swear, I'm going to go insane if dad pulls anymore publicity stunts like this! So, first of all, it was one of those super-important Christmas parties that everybody and their mother throws, and my dad forces me to go to all of them. Even the president and his wife were at this one, though, so I guess that it was pretty important. Anyway, I was just sitting in the back corner--well, all right, I was next to the desert tray, but you have to give me a break, if you knew these parties. The only good thing about them is the desert tray. I always gain several pounds over Christmas. Anyway, my mom walks over, talking to this ugly, dorky looking guy. And I'm getting pretty nervous, because it has occurred to me that she might be trying to set me up again. They hadn't given me the chance to tell them about you, and besides, I would never date anyone they set me up with anyway. So this kid turns out to be the Vice-President's son, and he's in law school at Harvard, and he was just dying to meet me--well, that's what mom said. I was about to gag. She knew what I was thinking, because she gave me this look that made me know I had to talk to the idiot, even if I didn't want to. It makes me so mad, thinking about how they treat me. I am not a baby; I'm not even in high school anymore. They don't have a right to force me to talk to these stupid people! But no matter what, I listen to them. So the guy smiles--and I saw that he had braces! Imagine, braces at his age, I wanted to puke! So he pulls out a chair for me, even though I really didn't want to sit down, because then I really would be forced to talk to him, but my mother glared at me, so I did. I feel like such a wimp, I really should have splashed the wine in her face and stalked out of the room, at least then I wouldn't have had to talk for three hours straight with Vance Jr. He was so remarkably stupid, it was so obvious that the only reason he got into Harvard was because of his father. Every time I made to get up, mom or dad looked at me and I had to sit down again. I swear, Darien, it was pure torture. No one, not even the most ruthless Chinese prison guard, could have devised a more horrendous punishment for a girl. He kept downing wine like it was water, and by the end of the three hours, he was leering at me in a way that made me want to slap him! His arm had somehow sneaked around me, too, and his breath smelled terrible. And then, just as I thought I would be able to get out of it, my dad--who, of course, had surrounded himself with reporters--turns to me and Mr. Creep, and says, as loud as he possibly can:

"Well, of course I have to get used to my daughter growing up. But I couldn't think of a better match for her than Vice President William's son. Just look at them together!"

Of course, my face turns beet red, and I look away from the cameras, as they flash at me. I really couldn't believe it. I mean, dad has pulled some stunts before, but nothing like this! I could have killed him. In fact, I wrenched away from the creep and walked out the door, I didn't even bother to grab my coat. All I could think about was that I really wanted to be with you, Darien, and that I wish you had come with me so dad would stop trying to set me up. I'm afraid, though, that stupid Vance Jr. is going to stalk me back at Harvard. Well, you'll just have to protect me, then, I hope. That thought, at least, makes this whole situation bearable. Wait, my father is finally home. I'm going to have to talk to him now, so I'll go. I'm telling him in no uncertain terms that I am off limits for matchmaking and any other forms of publicity he may have in mind. You may find me on your doorstep in a couple of days if he doesn't let up!

Exasperated, but (of course) very happy to be writing to you again,

Serena

------------------------

Darien,

This is terrible! Dad didn't understand at all! He practically ordered me to go out with the creep. And when I told him about you he said some horrible bigoted remark about keeping to our class, and different lifestyles. I told him, succinctly, to shove it. I couldn't believe that he said that. I told him that I was planning to leave this stupid 'lifestyle' of his as soon as I possibly could, so he wouldn't have to worry about unsuitable boys. I always thought that deep down, my dad believed in the type of social equality our country is based on, but now I'm beginning to wonder if he is exactly like the rest of the career politicians that I know. I don't understand how he could judge you when he doesn't even know you, just because I told him that your grandfather was a farmer. It doesn't make any sense! I tried to explain, to both him and mom, how wonderful you were, but they didn't even listen to me. They actually said that no peach farmer would date their daughter--those exact words! I thought I knew them, but I never would have thought them capable of thinking something so bigoted. I don't know how they could possibly stop me, though, Darien. I don't have to listen to them. I honestly don't know why I bothered to for so long. It's about midnight now, and I think that I'm going to have to leave the house, and cool off. This life isn't for me. I always knew it wasn't, but I really can't handle it anymore. I'm going to my friend Molly's house, the address is at the bottom of the letter. Write me there, she can give me the letters, even if I do decide to come back home after a while. I think that mom and dad need to understand how serious I am. And, who knows, if anything will convince them, it's the threat of bad press. I might pull one of my father's tricks, and tip a reporter. Actually, I don't think that I will do that--I can't stand publicity. It would be nice to be home for Christmas, though, if I can't be with you. I'll just have to see what happens.

Missing you (why don't you write?)

Serena

------------------------

Darien,

It's been a week since I've seen you. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Why haven't you written to me? I want you so badly that I can taste it. Sometimes I look at someone on the street, and for one brief second, it's you, smiling at me. Can't you at least write? Tell me that something has happened, that the post has broken down, that the mailman has forgotten to give you my letters. Don't tell me that you are ignoring me, that already you have forgotten me, stopped loving me--if you ever did. Here is my gift. I wanted a little piece of me to be under your tree this Christmas. I hope you like the present. I noticed that your copy of The Taming of the Shrew was getting a little dog eared, so I knew that this would be perfect. The picture on the cover is one Mina took of us. I think that it actually is of our first argument. I think we look so funny, but I couldn't think of a more perfect picture. We look like fighting lovers, don't we?

You never explained to me how you know Japanese. I'm curious, but I'm beginning to get a bit afraid. There is something that is pulling you away from me. I can feel it. I don't know what it is. You never tell me these things, Darien. I don't know why you're afraid of me.

Serena

------------------------

Serena,

I know that you will probably get this after New Years, since the post around here is pretty slow, so merry Christmas and happy new year. I've read your letters, and for a while I could not bring myself to answer them, no matter how much I wanted to. But when I saw your present, I knew that I had to explain myself. You probably won't forgive me for this. I don't even know if you'll understand where I'm coming from, but I have to try. You are right, you at least deserve the right to know what is pulling me away from you.

My parents were diplomatic attaché's, stationed--when I was born--in Japan. I do not remember them, but I will get to that later. I was educated in an English school until I was seven. Then, while taking a road trip one day, we were in a terrible car accident. I was the only survivor. I suffered complete amnesia. I could not remember my former life, only my name. It was only much later that I discovered who my parents were. I spoke Japanese fluently, and because they did not know of any living relatives, I was placed in an orphanage. I don't really know why I remembered English as well as I did. Maybe it was because I read every book I could find--and lots were in English. It was hard in the orphanage, I suppose. Not because we were mistreated, but because we were never given any real affection. The warmth of a family was denied to us. I had no friends, growing up. I never really spoke to anybody. I was driven, determined to succeed to spite everyone who had forced me down. But when I was fourteen, a social worker came to the orphanage, and told me that a man in the US had contacted her about my parents. He had been searching for me for years, she said, and had only just found me. He was my grandfather. A grandfather I had never known, but was being gratefully shipped off to. I resented his intrusion on my life, I suppose. I was independent. I did not need love--or so I thought. I had not really learned what love was. The last thing I wanted was to live with a farmer who claimed to be my grandfather. And then I met him.

He was the only person in my life who had ever truly loved me for who I was. He loved me, even when I was rude and ungrateful. He made the most incredible sacrifices for me. We were poor--farmers usually are not very well off--but he used every extra penny on me and my education. I came, despite myself, to love him. But I always knew that our world was a different one from the rich, and glamorous lifestyle made popular by television--your lifestyle Serena. As I got older, I knew that there was always going to be a divide between those like my grandfather, poor just struggling to survive, and those like you, with wealth that could feed a small nation. I knew that I would never be able to understand people like that. That much, I owed to my grandfather. One of the wealthiest nations in the world, and the politicians only protected their own: the rich and influential. I knew I couldn't change that, but I refused to be a part of it. Serena, I still refuse to be a part of it. That's why it's so important that you are Ken Johnston's daughter. He is the embodiment of every aspect of the US government that I despise. You are his daughter. I simply can't throw away where I came from. Your father said that we come from two different worlds. And we do. I would like to be able to love you, Serena. I came extremely close to doing it. But I can't truly love someone born to privilege like you were. I can't, because we are fundamentally different. You will understand, if not now, later, why I can't love you. We will go our separate ways and forget about each other.

I am so sorry, Serena.

Darien

------------------------

I read and re-read the letter, as if doing so would change what he had said. It didn't. He still hated me. Not because of who I was, but because of what I stood for. The tears started quietly, burning hot tracks down my cheeks. My mouth opened convulsively, trying to utter a sound, trying to vocalize the extent of my loss, but nothing came out. He had said he loved me, and now he didn't. He had called me Usako, and now he called me Serena. I loved him! I loved him so badly that it hurt me, and he had washed his hands of me. Breaking from my throat, an incoherent cry escaped, and I collapsed to my knees. I was alone in the house, sitting in front of the fire. My grief was all-encompassing. It ridiculed my love, but made it all the more inevitable.

"Darien." I whimpered, over and over again, my tears making the ink unreadable. It did not matter, the words were etched in my brain forever. How could he do this to me? How could he? And yet I felt an unbearable sympathy for him. How could I have complained of my rich life when he had lived through that? How could I? Perhaps that was why he hated me. Because I was spoiled and did not understand what I had been given before it was too late. With a violent cry I ripped the letter apart, and tossed the pieces on the fire. I watched the flames leap up as they fed on my tears and his rejection. It seemed as if the fire was laughing at me, mocking my pain. Angrily I picked up the envelope, ready to toss it into the fire as well, but stopped, when I felt something inside. Numbly, I turned it over, and something fell out of the bottom. I picked it up, and turned it over carefully in my hand. It was a small ivory bunny, attached to a silver chain. On its stomach, with painstaking care, someone had carved "Usako".

I stayed in front of the fire, late into the night, calling his name like a prayer.


	6. Denial

BIG DISCLAIMER:

I am reposting my Sailor Moon fanfic _Fire_ at because the old site where I first posted it, A Sailor Moon Romance, has died. I wrote this over eight years ago, and while it will always hold a special place in my heart (the first novel I ever attempted), I sincerely hope that my writing has improved since then. On the other hand, at the time a lot of people wrote to me how much they liked it, and it seemed a shame that those people wouldn't be able to find it online anymore once ASMR died. HOWEVER, please think of this fic along the lines of a historical document. Especially if you found this because you like my Veronica Mars fiction...well, this is a little less sophisticated. On the other hand, it's fun, so what the hell :) I'm going to post a chapter a day until it's finished.

ALSO...you might be interested to know that I have published an actual novel, in actual stores: Racing the Dark by Alaya Dawn Johnson (that's me, of course). If you like this, PLEASE consider buying it or at least telling your librarian to get a copy. A lot of novels get published each year, and it's so easy for them to get lost in the deluge. I'm afraid that's what's happening to my book, so if you like any of my stuff I hope you'll think about it. If you want to know more (and read the first three chapters), you can go to my website. It's my full name, "Alaya Dawn Johnson" without any spaces, dot com.

**[Someone remembered Mamo-chan au naturel! Now I'm definitely going to post _Fantasy_...**

Chapter Six: Denial 

Mina, Raye and Amy waited for me at the train station. I had come at the last possible moment; classes started the next morning. I could tell that they were worried about me. After I read Darien's letter, I had refused to talk to anyone for a week. Mina had been rather persistent, calling me practically every day, and I guess that she had talked to Raye and Amy about it as well. I was happy to see them, although I didn't really want to talk about Darien. It was good to know that at least some people still cared about me. Mina ran up and catapulted herself at me almost as soon as I got off the train.

"Serena, are you all right? What happened?" She could tell, I suppose, just by looking at my eyes that something was wrong. But Mina was like that. Raye and Amy hugged me as well, and I began to feel overwhelmed. Maybe it would be good to talk about it, after all. I had had to hide myself from my parents. I knew that they could never understand me. As I looked in my friends' faces, all the emotions that I had bottled inside of me the past week came exploding to the surface and I began to cry. I felt rather stupid, crying in the middle of a train station, surrounded by three other girls, but it felt so necessary, that I didn't even care.

"Come on, Serena. Let's go to the bathroom and you can tell us all about it." Mina said. Raye helpfully supplied some tissues, looking incredibly confused. Amy glanced at Mina, as if wondering what she should do. We made it to the bathroom and, since no one else was there at that particular moment, locked ourselves in.

"I love you guys." I said honestly, looking at my puffy face in the mirror.

"It's Darien, isn't it?" Amy said suddenly, looking triumphant. I stared at her.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"First, because he's the only one who can do this to you, and second because I saw him yesterday and he looked almost exactly like you did when you stepped off the train."

I was angry at myself for feeling the first stirrings of hope when Amy said that. I was nothing to him, his letter had explained that patently to me. There was nothing left of our relationship for him to regret. He must have been upset about something else. They were looking at me expectantly. I took a deep breath and explained everything to them. I did not need the letter, its words were branded on my memory, forever. I had repeated his words to myself constantly, this past week. I knew it was masochistic, but there were times that I just couldn't believe that he didn't love me. He had said so, in fact, that second to last day, but apparently he hadn't meant it. But when I thought about that time on the beach, or those countless times--even before we admitted to each other--that we argued in the ice cream parlor, I could not believe that he did not love me. But that just showed how much I knew, didn't it? Mina's expression mirrored the disbelief on my face. Amy looked sad and Raye's expression was positively unreadable.

"Serena, why didn't you tell us?" Amy asked.

"I…I didn't tell anyone. I couldn't. I still love him. I can't believe that this is happening."

"I can't believe that he would throw something like this away!" Mina raged, suddenly. "Doesn't he understand what you two have? God, I could just strangle him!"

"I can understand it." Raye said quietly, and we all looked at her in disbelief. "I don't agree with him, but I can understand why he feels like that. I'm not exactly the richest person myself, and if his life was as hard as all that, I can see why he wouldn't be able to be with someone like Serena."

"What do you mean, someone like me?" I shouted, easily sliding into one of my constant arguments with Raye. "I hate my lifestyle. My fondest wish is to forget all of the crap my father throws at me, but it's not like I can change how I was born or where I was! I'm sorry for Darien, more than I can say, but does he have to make my life a living hell just because of the accident of my birth?"

"I said I disagreed with him!" Raye retorted, angrily. "Yes, he should be able to look beyond that and to the person you really are. But he must have known you were rich, even if he didn't know who your father was, and he still dated you. That must have been the final straw, when he found out."

Raye's words hit me like a lead bullet in the stomach. Of course. I had known that something in our relationship was hurting him deeply, but I could never understand it. The expression on his face when the stranger had identified me had just been a stronger version of the one I had seen several times before. But he had still allowed himself to love me, then. If only I had been more observant, maybe I could have stopped this before it happened. But I had lived in my own dream world, and now he was gone, forever.

"You guys," I said, crying again. "What am I supposed to do?"

No one answered me.

------------------------

He was in my government class. I hadn't known he was taking it, I didn't mean for it to happen. In fact, I nearly dropped my books when I saw him, sitting pensively in the second row of the lecture hall. I panicked, staring blindly around me, praying to God that he wouldn't see me. But it was as if some sixth sense had triggered him to my presence, because almost as soon as I stepped in the door, he turned around and stared. I held his eyes, frozen, for a moment. I saw his emotions flit past: shock, relief, anger, sadness, and then he turned away. Shaken, I moved from the doorway and took a seat in the far back row. My first thought was that I should switch out of the class immediately. How could I handle seeing him every day, like this, and pretending that nothing was ever between us? But something within me rebelled at the thought of backing down from him. If I respected myself at all, I could not allow him to push me in a corner. I raised my chin stubbornly, and glared at the back of Darien's neck. I had cried all night, but I was not going to give him the pleasure of seeing what he had done to me. I would be a happy and carefree Serena--at least around him. I was disturbed from my thoughts by the girl next to me.

"Um…excuse me, you wouldn't happen to have a pen, would you?" She said, putting her hand behind her head in an embarrassed fashion. "I think I forgot one." She finished. I smiled at her.

"Sure, let me see." I said, and rummaged through my bag, looking for one. She stared in amazement at the pile of junk that accumulated in front of my bag: an apple, several lollipops, caramel, lots of tissues, an extra pair of socks and a walkman. Finally, I raised my hand triumphantly, holding the pen.

"Here it is!" I said breathlessly. She stared at me, her mouth open. "Do you want it?" I asked, after a while.

"Is that…a 'Rainbow Brite' pen?" She asked finally, disbelief in her eyes.

"Well," I said, blushing, "I guess so. Sorry about that. If it's too dorky or anything--"

She started to laugh, and shook her head, "No, no, don't worry. I love it. I used to watch Rainbow Brite too." She took the pen, and stared at me again, a smile on her face.

"My name is Lita. Can I have a caramel?"

"Sure," I said, brightening, and handed her a couple. It was then that I noticed the extent of the disaster on the floor, and started putting the junk back inside my bag.

"I'm Serena." I said from the floor, holding my hand up for her to shake. She laughed again and shook it, peering down to where I was picking up the junk.

"How do you fit all that in there anyway?" She asked curiously.

"Oh, I don't know, I just pick these things up, and then when I need something, I have to dump them all out again. It's a big pain. I've been meaning to clean it…"

"But haven't gotten around to it yet? I could tell that much."

I kept the apple, and sat up in the chair. I would have said something, but the professor entered the room just then, and I busily began taking notes.

------------------------

Two hours later, Lita and I stuffed ourselves in layers of warm clothes and strolled outside.

"Do you like ice cream?" Lita asked, and felt as if someone had hit me in the stomach with a baseball bat. Did I like ice cream?

"Yes." I said in a small voice, praying that she wasn't going where I thought she was.

"There's this great ice cream place down the street," Oh yes, she was going there,"called Glifford's. Do you want to go?"

Well, it had been a long time since I had had a milkshake. Of course, I couldn't possibly go if Darien were working there, but it was the middle of the day and he still had classes. His shift wasn't until later, so I was safe. Wiping the look of panic from my face, I smiled at Lita.

"Sure, I love that place." I said.

"Then let's go," she said, dragging me by my hand, "I'm going to freeze if we stay out here much longer."

Although I had known that Darien wouldn't be there, I still felt relieved when I saw the zit-faced boy behind the counter. At least I was safe now. I wasn't planning to do it, but the words escaped my mouth before I could stop them.

"Can I have a strawberry-chocolate milkshake with vanilla syrup?" It had been so long since I had ordered one! Well, not so very long, but that time in my life seemed impossibly far away. He looked at me with a surprised expression, and then turned around to fill the order. I breathed a sigh of relief, since he had not recognized me. Maybe I had given myself too much credit. After all, having dated Darien Chiba is not exactly cause for celebrity status.

"Hey, I know who you are!" He said, handing me my milkshake, "Aren't you that girl whose dating Darien?" Right, I definitely thought too soon.

"Was dating Darien, you should say." I said, a little too bitterly, I think. He blushed and Lita gave me a confused look. Why was I always doing things like that? I ought to be able to control myself better, I knew, but the very mention of Darien seemed to make me lose all control over myself I ever had. Lita ordered a plain chocolate milkshake and we sat down at the far table. She shook her long brown ponytail out from under her hat, and placed it on the chair next to her.

"So you're the one who is dating Darien." She said reflectively, sipping her milkshake. I blushed furiously, and stared angrily at the table. How had it gotten around so quickly? There was no way I could get over him myself if everyone else kept reminding me about him! The necklace seemed to burn into my chest painfully.

"Was dating Darien." I corrected with angry emphasis. "But he tabled that one officially."

"Woah!" Lita said, startled. "A little bitter, are we?"

"Sorry," I muttered, staring into my milkshake. It wasn't as good as the ones Darien made. "How'd you hear about it, anyway?" I asked.

"You think any girl who held Darien's attention the way you did would escape the notice of the entire college? I had to hear about you, even if I didn't want to."

"He's that popular?" I asked, smiling slightly.

"He's just the hottest thing on two legs, that's all." She said, leaning back in her chair.

I cracked a smile. "Well, that's true, at least."

"So, if you don't mind my asking, what happened? Last I checked he was totally in love with you. Don't tell me he got bored?" She said inquisitively. I wondered if I should tell her. It was strange, I had just met Lita, but already she seemed like a close friend.

"No, I don't mind." I said finally. "Maybe you'll be able to make more sense out of it than I have." I told her an edited version of the story, leaving out a lot of details of his childhood. I didn't think Darien would appreciate it if I told his life story to the entire university. I was tempted to tell her about the bunny, but something held me back. It was his one incomprehensible gesture, the one thing he had done that made me suspect he may still care about me, and I couldn't give up that hope.

"Well, that's got to be the stupidest thing I have ever heard! If he can't see you for who you are, then he doesn't deserve to have you." She said, slapping the table for emphasis.

"But," I said, dangerously close to tears, "I think he may still love me. Do you really think I should give that up?"  
"Give what up?" Lita asked frankly. "He was the one who broke up with you. As far as he's concerned, whatever happened is in the past. Pick up and get over it. Like I said, if he's going to be that stupid, it definitely isn't good to wail after him like some lost sheep."

I stared at her, mouth open. Mina and the others had tiptoed around me since I told them, but Lita just came right in and said what she was thinking. I was tempted to resent it, but what I really felt was overwhelmingly grateful. Maybe she was right. Maybe I really shouldn't pine after him like this. Even if I did still love him, I could get over it. Not many people loved forever and obviously Darien was one of the many.

"Do you know, I think you're right." I said slowly. "Yeah, I'll try to forget him."

Lita smiled, and swung her ponytail over her shoulder. "That's the right idea. Watch, it'll be easier than you think."

------------------------

Except it seemed that someone had given Darien some similar advice, perfectly timed to hit me when I was most vulnerable. The next day, as I was hurrying to class, I ran straight into a couple, obviously on a date. My books flew out of my gloved hands, and I bent down to pick them up, muttering apologies through my scarf. It was in the negative temperatures that day with wind chill, and I had put my scarf around my head and face so only my eyes showed through. When I stood back up again, I recognized them.

"Darien? Raye?" I said, but it came out in a squeak. I saw the rough play of emotions in his eyes again, ending with bitterness. Raye looked embarrassed, not quite willing to meet my eyes. It had only been three days since I told her what had happened. How could she do this to me? For that matter, how could he do this to me. I felt the tears behind my eyes, and I knew that I would never be able to live with myself if I cried in front of him.

"Sorry." I said again, inexplicably, and ran as quickly away from them as I possibly could. I could feel control of myself slipping quietly away, and my tears wet my scarf. I couldn't go to class crying, but something told me that there was no holding this one back. Although I did not, as a rule, skip class, I decided that this time there was no helping it. I ran blindly away until I had to stop. When I looked up, I found myself in front of a small library I had never been inside. Pulling my scarf closer around my face to mask my red eyes, I entered. It was cozy, practically empty, and filled with exactly the kind of little nooks and crannies that I needed. There was a room, on the second floor, with large windows and dusty shelves of books. Quietly, I shut the door behind me, and sat in the chair, numbly staring outside. It looked like it was going to snow, I thought distantly. Slowly, I slid the scarf from my face; it was soaked with my tears. I removed the rest of my gear with equal deliberation, observing the growing pile on the floor. Then I looked out the window again. Sitting on a bench below me were a couple. The man embraced the woman, and her head fit perfectly on his shoulder. It was the kind of classic picture that always made me sigh with longing, but now had a much deeper effect on me. The man wasn't Darien, and the woman wasn't Raye, but it was still the same. Darien didn't love me, and Raye had betrayed me. The tears slipped out quietly now, as I stared at them. The sound of my heart shattering was inaudible.

------------------------

My despair was less dramatic after that. I found that it was easier for me to present a happy face to the world. Mina and Amy were relieved, and I had not seen Raye for three days. But I always disappeared to my corner in that library when I began to feel overwhelmed. I knew that no one could really understand what was happening to me, and I didn't want them to worry about me. But, I didn't know if I would ever get over Darien's rejection. I had not known that it was possible to feel so much pain over one person. Sometimes I thought that it would have been more humane for him to kill me. I hid the bunny well under my layers of clothing, but sometimes I reached for it convulsively, making sure that he had actually given it to me.

Lita, however, was less easily fooled than the others. Perhaps it was because she didn't know Raye, and didn't have any reason to want to believe that I was happy with our separation. She tried to cheer me up, but after three days, she just came straight to the point.

"Serena, it's not just me. You have been more upset these past three days than you were when it first happened."

I roughly suppressed the tears that were always just below the surface. "No, don't worry Lita, I'm fine." I said, quickly burying my head back in my book. We were studying together for our first big test in Government. Since it was entirely too cold outside for either of us to contemplate going to the library, we had staked ourselves out in the coffee shop of Peabody Hall. Lita rolled her eyes and pushed my book back down on the table.

"Serena, I like you. I have the feeling that you're not usually like this, and I really don't think that it's healthy for you to mope around after some guy for an entire week."

"Lita, there's really nothing that either of us can do about it. Come on, let's just study for this, all right?" Lita looked so worried that I felt terrible for brushing her aside like that. But it was true what I had said--talking wasn't going to solve anything. Maybe time would, but I was even beginning to doubt that.

"I'll leave it alone, if you want me too. But nothing is going to change unless you make it happen. I know what it's like to lose someone you love." Something entered her eyes just then that made me wonder what she was thinking of. "Not in the same way, maybe, but I do know. Maybe it doesn't get any easier, but you have to fight the pain or it will devour you."

I wondered had happened to her, but I knew that I shouldn't ask. The look in her eyes just then echoed the loss she had just spoken of, and the one I was experiencing. Silently, I held her hand across the table and smiled slightly. She smiled in return. "We'll get through this." She seemed to say, and I nodded.

I sure hoped so, at least.

------------------------

I was surprised to find Raye in the dorm when I walked in. I don't know where she had gone, but ever since I had seen her with Darien, I had not seen her. I was tempted, when I saw the back of her head, to close the door and walk to Mina's room, but something stopped me. I think it was anger. The second I saw her, the betrayal I had felt for three days rose to the surface and I felt angry enough to punch her. It wasn't like me to get angry, but when I did I tended to leave a path of destruction in my wake. I slammed the door behind me, and she turned around in surprise. She looked expectant, but fearful, and I knew that she had been waiting for me. I crossed my arms in front of me and glared at her.

She took a deep breath. "Serena, we need to talk."

"No kidding." I said quietly, restraining myself from screaming or hitting her. The anger seemed to eat at my insides like a malevolent fire. We stared at each other for a moment, in silent battle, and then the words that had been inside of me for three days came spewing forth.

"Raye, how could you do this to me?" My voice raised several decibels, even louder than when I had screamed at Darien. "You knew what he had done, you knew how I felt about him, you knew exactly what had happened, and you still went on a date with him? Do you care about me at all, Raye? Do you want to hurt me? Because if you did, then you definitely have succeeded."

Raye flinched at the end, and I stepped closer to her.

"Serena, you knew I liked Darien. I don't see how you could expect me not to respond to him, when your relationship is clearly over. I'm sorry that it had to happen so soon, but since Darien doesn't seem to think that there was much between you, I don't see why you have to make such a big deal about it--" She had stood up, and we were inches away from each other. I don't think that I had ever been so angry in my life. My hands were clenched rigidly at my sides.

"Raye, just answer this: did he ask you out? Are you two a couple?"

She blushed. "No, not really. But he was walking me to class, and it's obvious that he is heading in that direction. I did not stop it, and I will not stop it because you are overreacting. He never loved you. He said that himself. If you choose to live under the delusion that a guy like Darien would ever like, let alone love, an immature, spoiled, crybaby like you--"  
I didn't let her finish. It was too much. I slapped her as hard as I possibly could and ran out of the room. I could barely see where I was going through my tears, and I was lucky as I hurtled myself down the stairs that I didn't sprain my ankle again, or do anything worse to myself. I ran out the building, and the shock of the cold and snow was somehow refreshing. The snow was already six inches high, and it had only been falling for an hour. I stumbled through it around the nearly deserted campus, unaware of where my subconscious was leading me. I stopped when I tripped over a rock, hidden by the snow, and crashed down. I sat up, shivering and looked around me. I was surprised when I realized that I was right next to Darien's dorm. Of course. My subconscious would have that vicious sort of humor, wouldn't it? I shivered violently, and suddenly realized that I was only wearing my lighter coat and I was still wearing my moccasin slippers. I wrapped my arms around my body, trying to keep as warm as I could. I stood up, and spotted a bench a little way off. I brushed the snow from the seat and sat down. I didn't really know where to go. I knew that I couldn't go back to the dorm, and that I really didn't want to move. If I was cold, perhaps it was fit punishment for allowing myself to love someone like Darien. The snow covered me slowly, and I made no move to brush it off. My body seemed distant from the rest of my emotions. The fact that I was cold was understood and distantly registered, but did nothing to affect me. I sat on that bench for perhaps an hour, unaware of how dangerously cold I was growing. I became vaguely aware, after an hour, of the only person I had seen since I had come here. I stared at him silently, wondering if he would notice me. There was no surprise, when I recognized him as Darien. Of course he would be coming back this late--he had the night shift at the ice cream parlor. I huddled on the bench sure that he would pass me by, but my heart still thudded painfully with anticipation. But he walked right by where I was sitting and did not look my way. But just as I felt the grief welling within me, he stopped. My breath caught. Slowly, as if he sensed my presence some other way than his five senses, he turned and saw me. Our eyes locked.

"Serena?" He called over the wind. "Is that you? What the hell are you doing out here?" I found, to my surprise, that I couldn't speak. A combination of cold and desire had taken my voice away. He walked over to where I was sitting, and I saw that the snow was over a foot deep.

"Serena, it's way too cold for you to be out here." He said with a concern that made me wonder if he did love me after all.

"S-sorry," I stuttered through chattering teeth. I really didn't know why I kept apologizing around him. The wind picked up so we could barely hear each other, even inches away. He looked at the snow, worried.

"All right, come on." He said urgently and wrapped his arm around my waist. I didn't know if he felt the same thrill at the touch that I did. I tried to stand up, but found that my legs had cramped and fallen asleep. We stumbled together through the snow, and while I tried to walk properly, my limbs did not seem to want to function. He picked me up when we reached the stairs, and carried me, shaking, into a small room with a couple of couches and a fireplace. There was one other person there, who stared at us when we came in. Darien ignored him. I buried my face into his chest, smelling again what I never would have expected. I was aware of the tension between us, the crackling fire just below the surface. Apparently he was too, because his face was oddly flushed when he put me down next to the fireplace. He did not look at me when he took some wood from a pile and shoved some into the dying fire. He lit a match and tossed that in as well, pocketing them afterwards. As I felt myself thaw, I looked at Darien again. He looked surprisingly tired, with a distinct five o'clock shadow. His eyes seemed haunted. I wanted to reach out to him, but I remained huddled in front of the fire, shivering. When he was done with the fire, he looked at me, oddly vulnerable.

"I'll be right back." He said quietly, and I watched him retreat. I felt like I had entered a parallel universe. Of all things I had expected this day to bring, being carried by Darien after practically freezing to death was not one of them. I could not seem to think properly. The only thing I was aware of was that finally I was close to Darien again, and the feeling was like a salve for all the pain I had experienced over the past two weeks. He came back quickly, carrying a blanket and a towel. By now the other person had given up all pretense of studying and was watching us curiously. I was silent as he peeled my now soaking jacket off. He took off my moccasins too, with a frown creasing his forehead. I could not seem to focus on that, though, only the way his hands felt as they brushed against my feet. I did notice how his hands shook when he gently released my hair from its perpetual dumplings. He squeezed some of the water out of my hair with the towel, and then wrapped me in the blanket. He was silent throughout it all, although his frown grew more pronounced as it went on. When he was finished, he leaned back on his heels, and I knew he felt frustrated.

"Serena, do you have a death wish?" he said finally, his voice revealing more concern than anger. I looked at him, upset and slightly ashamed. It had been stupid of me to just sit out there.

"No." I said quietly, daring a look in his eyes, and then back down. The pools of blue looked fundamentally disturbed.

"What were you doing out there?" he asked again, loudly.

It was obvious that I was still not quite in control of myself, or I would never have responded as I did. "Thinking about you." I said, and I could tell that my answer stunned him. We were silent for a minute.

"You scared me, Serena," he said finally. I looked at him for an electric moment, and then smiled sleepily. Perhaps he did love me, after all. He must have seen me slipping away. He pulled a couch closer to the fire, and picked me up. I fell asleep almost as soon as he put me down, his worried face the last thing I saw before sinking into dreamless oblivion.

------------------------

I woke up, inexplicably, three hours later. I was alone in the lounge, and the fire had died down. Darien was nowhere to be seen. I was tempted to fall asleep again, but some crazed hope stopped me. I remembered what he had done for me, and the way he had looked. Perhaps this night was my last chance to show him what we meant to each other. He looked more vulnerable than I had ever seen him before. If I didn't try now, then I would lose my chance at love forever. Lita's voice came ringing back to me, making my decision final: "Nothing is going to change unless you make it happen." I had to at least try. Even if I failed miserably, I would never regret this night. I extricated myself from the blanket, and stood up. My legs felt unsteady, and I wondered what would have happened to me if Darien hadn't come along when he did. I walked out of the room, feeling the unfamiliar weight of my hair out of its ponytails. It occurred to me as I walked up the stairs that I had no idea what to do when I got to Darien's room. I knew I had to convince him, somehow, that he really did love me, but I didn't know how to do it. Something pushed me forward, however, and I did not hesitate as I turned his doorknob and walked inside. He had been lying on his bed with his clothes still on, staring at the ceiling. He sat up almost as soon as I opened the door, relaxing slightly when he saw who it was. I grew suddenly aware of what I was doing, and how marvelously stupid it was. How could I possibly expect to be able to change his mind? It had been my goal the entire time, but now, faced with the prospect, I could have run straight out the door. Darien stopped me.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, but his voice was gentle. What could I say? 'I wanted to talk to you?' I didn't really know the answer to his question myself. And then, it seemed like another entity took over my body. I lost all my shyness, all my fear. I stared at Darien, and I shuddered.

"The fire went out." I said, which was true, except both Darien and I knew that it wasn't meant literally. I saw him gulp, but he said nothing. For a moment I contemplated doing what I had longed to do for the past two years. For a moment I contemplated seducing Darien, the one man I loved, and the most accomplished lover at Harvard. But I knew I could never do it, not really. I knew that having sex with him would not change his mind. Not much would change his mind. It was his decision. I could only tell him how I felt and hope that he would understand. Slowly I walked to the bed and straddled him. His eyes grew impossibly wide. I knew that he responded to me; his eyes left mine involuntarily and traveled the length of my body. I was aware of a growing sense of trepidation. I did not know what I was doing.

And then, something occurred to me. I knew what I had to do. I knew that any less would be cowardly and any more unthinkable. I leaned forward, reaching into his pocket, and pulled out the small box of matches he had put there earlier. I took a match, and tossed the rest on the floor. His breathing grew shallow as I leaned forward again. I had read once that you could strike a match on the cheek of an unshaved man and Darien had obviously not shaved for about two days. Praying that it would work, I gently brought the match to his cheek, and flicked my wrist. It lit immediately, like something more than friction had ignited it. I brought the flame to my face, aware of its eerie effect. With my free hand I reached under my shirt and pulled out the bunny necklace so that the light would catch it. I knew Darien understood. I could barely see Darien's face, only his eyes, and they spoke volumes to me.

"I love you, Darien." I said quietly, still holding the low-burning match. "You can push me away all you want. You can date my roommate, and you can lie to yourself, but I know that you love me even if you won't admit it. The fire between us can't go out so easily as this."

I blew out the match, the moment before it burned my fingers, and the world was plunged in darkness. I left that room then, and it was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. I knew that if I had stayed, he would finally have given me what I had wanted for two years. But I also knew that in the morning he would have left, and betrayed me once again. He had to come to terms with me alone, in the dark. I would not give myself to him, not like this. My eyes were painfully dry when I closed the door quietly behind me. I had done all I could, if he rejected me, there was no turning back.

------------------------

I did not see him at all over the weekend or Monday. At least, I comforted myself, no news was good news. Lita was pleased to see that I was acting more like my usual self. I was disappointed that Darien hadn't come to class on Monday, but, I reasoned, that really didn't mean anything. He would let me know what he had decided, somehow. I allowed my natural optimism to take over. I knew that he loved me, after that night, how could he possibly deny it? He had wrestled with his demons during the night and any moment he would come to me and tell me so. We could be happy together forever, now. In fact, I had worked myself into such a state of happiness that after class, I suggested that Lita and I go out for lunch at this fantastic Mongolian restaurant down the street.

"Wow," Lita said, impressed, "you sure are feeling better today, aren't you? I had to bully you into going out all last week. Did Darien declare his eternal love for you, or something?" She asked, and I winced a little.

"No." I said. Well not yet anyway, but I didn't say that to her. I hadn't told anyone about that night. It was my own little treasure, for me to think about when I grew upset that Darien hadn't told me anything yet.

"Well, all right, let's go." Lita said, and it took me a moment to realize that she was saying that she did want to go out with me.

"Wait, let's stop by my dorm, I have to get my coat." I hadn't gone back to the dorm since that night, but I figured that Raye wouldn't be there at this time, so it was OK. Lita waited for me in the lounge, and I sprinted up the stairs two at a time. I was glad that the room genuinely was empty, and I grabbed my coat and gloves and ran out again. I would have rounded the corner, but I heard some familiar voices over by the elevator. I never took the elevator, more out of impatience than anything else, but it was next to the staircase. I stopped, my breath in my throat. Could it really be them? Mina and Amy had talked to me since that night, trying to get me to reconcile with Raye. Since I had refused, it was silly of me to get so upset that they would go out without me, but I still felt hurt. That, however, was a mild reaction when I heard what they were talking about.

"I can't believe it!" Raye said happily, too happily for my taste. I peered around the corner. Amy and Mina gave each other a wary look.

"But what about Serena?" Amy ventured. Raye looked annoyed.

"She'll get over it. You know how melodramatic Serena is, I'll bet she never really loved him in the first place."

"Raye," Mina said, frowning, "you know she did."

Raye looked guilty for about half a second. "I suppose. But even she'll get used to the idea of Darien being my boyfriend."

I suppose they must have heard the sound of my body hitting the floor. I wouldn't know, though. My spirit had flown away with my transient happiness, and hidden itself away on some cold, lonely beach.


	7. Blood Moon

BIG DISCLAIMER:

I am reposting my Sailor Moon fanfic _Fire_ at because the old site where I first posted it, A Sailor Moon Romance, has died. I wrote this over eight years ago, and while it will always hold a special place in my heart (the first novel I ever attempted), I sincerely hope that my writing has improved since then. On the other hand, at the time a lot of people wrote to me how much they liked it, and it seemed a shame that those people wouldn't be able to find it online anymore once ASMR died. HOWEVER, please think of this fic along the lines of a historical document. Especially if you found this because you like my Veronica Mars fiction...well, this is a little less sophisticated. On the other hand, it's fun, so what the hell :) I'm going to post a chapter a day until it's finished. (And if it seems to go over well, I might even put up my extensively revised version of _Fantasy_...which I'm sure about three people still remember, but comment if you'd like it).

ALSO...you might be interested to know that I have published an actual novel, in actual stores: Racing the Dark by Alaya Dawn Johnson (that's me, of course). If you like this, PLEASE consider buying it or at least telling your librarian to get a copy. A lot of novels get published each year, and it's so easy for them to get lost in the deluge. I'm afraid that's what's happening to my book, so if you like any of my stuff I hope you'll think about it. If you want to know more (and read the first three chapters), you can go to my website. It's my full name, "Alaya Dawn Johnson" without any spaces, dot com.

**[Note for this chapter: And **_**here**_** the melodrama begins in earnest. Yes, my friends, I now bring you the infamous FROZEN OCEAN chapter. In case you didn't know, oceans can't freeze, except as a counterpoint to intense romantic angst. I am a master of improbable situations, as you can see here. Yes, parts of this story make me cringe.  
**

And without any further ado...

Chapter Seven: Blood Moon

I woke up violently to the feeling of someone splashing cold water on my face. As I opened my eyes I was surprised to see Lita's face directly above mine. Amy, Mina and Raye were behind her. For one joyous second I could not remember what had happened. When I glanced at Raye, though, looking guilty and scared, it all came crashing back. I groaned.

"Are you all right?" Lita asked, helping me sit up. I refused to look at Raye, whose face I was sure held a look of glowing triumph. Instead, I buried my head in Lita's chest and began to sob uncontrollably. This entire situation was getting out of hand. I couldn't seem to get control of myself, and every time I thought I could, Darien went and did something else to make me even more upset. Lita must have figured out what happened, because she didn't ask me. It all seemed so hopeless; I wondered why I had even bothered trying in the first place. I should have known that if Darien was determined to do something, he would do it, no matter what I did. He would go out with Raye whether I liked it or not, and it was obvious that Raye didn't care about my feelings enough to stop him. And why should she take me seriously, anyway? I was so melodramatic, as she had said. I was too ditzy, too silly to really love anyone. Lita hugged me tightly, and I could tell that for some reason, she was dangerously close to tears herself. I heard the others leave quietly, but I didn't turn and look at them. My life was crumbling around me, it seemed, and all because of one man. One stupid, inconsiderate man. After about fifteen minutes, I took my head off Lita's shoulder and stood up, rubbing at my puffy nose with one hand.

"Love sucks." I said vehemently, reaching in my pockets for some tissues.

Lita rubbed at the wet spot on her shirt, and then reached into her pocket and handed me some tissues. "Don't say that." She said seriously, as I blew my nose with an audible honk. "You know the saying, 'tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.'"

"Crap on that." I said bitterly. "If I had never met Darien, then I never would have fallen in love with him, and he never would have been able to hurt me like this. It would have worked out better for all concerned. I could have fallen in love with some, other, better, more perfect and wonderful…" I trailed off, and was forced to wipe at my streaming eyes again with the tissue. This wasn't working.

"Serena," Lita said gently, putting her hand on my shoulder, "Do you regret the time you did spend with Darien? Do you regret the time in the ice cream parlor, when he read Shakespeare and then kissed you?"

I stared at her. "How did you know about that?" I asked.

She laughed. "Just about everybody who has email found out in about an hour, you know. You still didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

"Do you regret that? Would you give that memory up so that you wouldn't feel pain now?"

I could not meet her eyes. Instead, I looked at the floor. Would I give it up? I wanted to say yes. I wanted to deny the pleasure that Darien had given me for such a short amount of time. I wanted to, but I couldn't. I just couldn't deny that what she said was true.

"No," I said finally. "No, I don't suppose I would."

Somebody passed us in the hall and gave us an odd look, and I suddenly realized how strange we must look: two girls, one close to tears, the other crying.

"Come on," I said, grabbing Lita's hand. "We can go back to my dorm."

"You know, Serena, I think I ought to tell you something." Lita said, when we were both sitting on the floor at the foot of my bed.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm not telling you this for sympathy, or anything. I can understand what you're going through, though." Her eyes stared into space, and they held a pain in them that reminded me of the look that I had seen in Darien's eyes so many times. "Five years ago, my parents were killed in an airplane crash. I've basically, gotten over it, I guess. But at the time, I was devastated. I had to live on my own. I…blamed them for dying. It was hard. For a long time, I thought like you, Serena. I wished that I never loved them. I wished that I could hate them, and then I could stop being so upset. But after a while, I realized that it didn't work that way. I couldn't stop loving them, and I shouldn't. At least I did have parents for a while, and for that while they had loved me. I realized that I should remember them for what they did give me, and love them for it. I know your situation is different, Serena, but it's never good to shut yourself off from love. I know that that's what Darien's doing. Darien can't even remember his parents. He doesn't even have the good memories I have to convince him to love anybody. Try…to forgive him for that, Serena. Maybe one day he'll find the courage to open himself up."

I felt as if the bottom had dropped from my stomach. I looked at Lita with newfound respect and compassion. How had she lived through that? What right did I have to complain about my life when my friends had experienced so much more? I felt terrible for complaining to Lita like my life was ending. Feeling a fresh bout of tears erupt, I hugged Lita again, and we cried on each other.

"Lita, I'm so sorry." I whispered.

After a while, Lita went to grab some tissues, and wiped her face. I blew my nose again with a honk so loud that we both burst into uncontrollable giggles.

"We really are a pair, aren't we?" Lita said, catching her breath.

I smiled at her. "Yeah. Come on, if we can manage to stop crying for about an hour, we may be able to go and get something to eat."

------------------------

That night, Amy found me in the library, attempting to write a paper for English. She sat down in front of me, and put her hands on the table.

"Hello, Serena." She said quietly.

"Hi Amy." I said, eyes still on the computer screen. I really didn't feel like talking to anyone, especially about Darien.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, so I won't." She began, and I stared at her. Had she read my thoughts? Well, I never was very good at hiding what I was feeling from people. "I just want you to know that I'm still your friend, no matter what happens. You know that, right?"

"Of course, Amy." I said, feeling a warm glow in my stomach. Did I really deserve such wonderful friends?

"And," She looked down awkwardly. "I thought that you might like to read this." She said, giving me a book. "You can have it, actually. I'm sure you need it more than I do. It's a book of Dorothy Parker poems."

I had heard of her before. "Isn't she that feminist writer in the twenties?" I asked.

"Well, 'feminist' is a little mild, I suppose. But, she's definitely a good read if you're feeling a particular dislike of the male race."

I winced. "I can sure relate to that."

Amy smiled. "I thought you could. So, do you need help on that essay?"

I shoved the book in my bag, and nodded. Some things, I supposed, never changed.

------------------------

I couldn't manage to sleep at all over the next few nights. Every time I drifted into an uneasy doze, vague impressions of danger would awaken me, and I would sit up in bed, awake, exhausted, but unable to sleep. Raye and I had come to an uneasy truce with the extensive help of Amy and Mina. We still didn't talk to each other, outside of what was necessary, but at least we suppressed the urge to fight every other word. I got the impression that Raye was growing more and more guilty over what she had done. I, however, was in no mood to forgive her. I wanted her to at least suffer a little for what she had done to me. These strange sleepless dreams, though, wouldn't go away. I felt the danger, the despair, but I could not see anything, and I woke up too soon to discover their source. I stared outside of the window, at the moonlit buildings and bare trees and shuddered. Beyond my range of sight, I wondered if Darien sat up in bed as well, unable to sleep, losing all sense of reality. On the third night, I remembered Dorothy Parker. I got up and rummaged through my bag, not even bothering to be quiet. These past few nights, Raye had slept more soundly than Rip Van Winkle after a keg party. I walked back to the bed, and curled myself in my sheets, pressing my face against the cold window. Then I opened the book. I realized why Amy had given it to me almost immediately. Dorothy Parker was like a balm for the rejected soul. I wondered at the type of life this woman must have lived to be able to write so knowledgeably about men and yet be so cynical. I read until dawn, and did not want to fall asleep.

------------------------

I couldn't eat either. When I tried, I could only manage to swallow half a salad before I felt like throwing up. It wasn't like I wasn't hungry; it was more like I didn't have the energy to eat. I knew that it was bad for me, and I could feel the little energy I had slipping away, but I just couldn't make myself do it. I knew the others noticed, but they were afraid to say anything. None of them knew that I couldn't sleep though, and I didn't tell them. It just would have made them more worried, and I knew that there was nothing anyone could do about it. I couldn't force myself to sleep no more than I could force myself to eat--even though I knew in my head that it was the right thing to do. That Thursday, Mina and I were in the one lounge on campus with a Nintendo hooked up to the television. We had made this discovery about a month ago, and since we shared a clandestine passion for video games, we sneaked there every free moment. I was glad that she had forced me to come along, because over the past week my mood had grown blacker and blacker. The only times I looked forward to were the nights, when I would be able to forget my own world and read more Dorothy Parker. I think Mina knew this, though, which was why she was so overly enthusiastic about the video games.

"So, you want to play Mario Kart?" She asked, already turning on the Nintendo, I smiled despite myself and nodded. I lost miserably every single level we played and Mina positively gloated.

"Seems you've lost your touch, huh?" She said, playfully sticking her tongue out at me when I fell off the rainbow road for the sixteenth time.

"Yeah, yeah," I said with more enthusiasm than I had exhibited all week, "I'll bet you rigged the game. I never liked the rainbow road anyway. What about…moo moo farm?" I asked, aware of how ridiculous our conversation must sound to anyone else. After she won in every single level, we played bomber man. In fact, we played every single other two player game in the collection and she positively demolished me. We had, in fact, gained a little audience, wondering exactly how badly it was possible to lose to one person.

"I'm not usually this bad!" I protested, when I blew myself up for the tenth time.

"I'm not usually this good." Mina chortled, and tossed another bomb at me.

------------------------

"I don't really know what happened." Mina said, as we were walking back across campus. "I'm usually so right about these things. I'm sorry that I encouraged it, you know. I really thought that it would work out. You seemed so perfect for each other."

I squeezed her hand. "It's all right. Don't worry, I'll get over it. We all do, eventually."

------------------------

The next day, in Government class, I was suddenly overwhelmed. Not with emotion, since I had certainly done my fair share of that over the past month, but with exhaustion. Suddenly the combined effect of an entire week without sleep or food and the droning voice of the professor was more debilitating than ten sleeping pills. Lita wasn't there that day to stop me, and Darien, of course wasn't looking. I pulled my huge winter hat further down on my head, and almost against my will, put my head on my desk and fell into my first sleep in a week. I hoped that I wouldn't get caught, but even that thought couldn't deter me. I drifted soundlessly into dreamless oblivion.

I didn't know how long it had been when I woke up, only that the rest of the class had left, and something had made me regain semi-consciousness. I opened my eyes slightly, only to be rewarded with the sight of Darien staring at me. He had not seen my eyes open, and did not know that I was awake. Through my fuzzy lashes I watched him, and felt renewed confusion when I saw his expression. Was that tenderness? He looked nearly as tired as I felt, but his eyes were bright when he looked at me. He reached down, as if to touch my hair, and I felt the breath leave my lungs. Just when he was about to, though, someone came in the room and he recoiled quickly. It was Raye. I had avoided them for just this reason, and now I was trapped, forced to watch two people I had trusted betray me. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn't.

"Darien--" Raye began, but Darien hushed her, pointing to me. I felt touched, but still angry. That man was a walking contradiction! One minute he saves me from a snowstorm and the next he dates my roommate a week after breaking up with me!

"Oh," Raye whispered. "Is that Serena? I didn't know she was in your class. Just like her to fall asleep though."

"She looks tired." Darien said, giving me one last look. "Come on, let's go." And they walked out of the room. After the door closed, I sat up, rubbing my eyes.

The room echoed with the sound of my hand slamming on the desk in fury.

------------------------

That night, Amy, Mina, Lita and I sat in the lounge, watching television. Lita had, apparently, met them briefly while I was passed out, and I introduced them again. It was strange without Raye, but she was out with Darien, and we all knew that she wouldn't come around if I were there anyway. We were watching the end of one of those terrible 'news' shows that gossiped about everyone in painful detail. Mina had insisted, since it was practically her favorite show. She liked watching all the hot guys, she said. Well, I have to admit that I didn't object to the hot guys either. At least the TV show stopped them from asking about Darien. Well, they didn't really ask about Darien any more, they just tiptoed around me in a way that made me sure they wanted to. So I lay back on the couch, and stared at the television. They had just finished this bit about this teenage actor (who was, by the way, not cute at all) who was having an affair with Barbara Streisand's sister. Lita yawned dramatically.

"Do we have to watch this?" She asked, looking pointedly at Mina.

"Shhh!" Mina said, eyes glued to the screen. "It's almost over. This is my favorite part."

The announcer, a heavily made up, middle aged man, with what I suppose you could call 'rugged good looks' came back on the screen. "Thanks, Yolanda. And now for our affair of the week." Lita rolled her eyes expressively. "Our close-knit couple this week were both born to privilege and fame. Vice President William's son, Vance Jr. and Presidential hopeful Ken Johnston's daughter, Serena, have officially hit it off, according to their parents. They met at the Vice President's annual Christmas party, and have continued their relationship at Harvard, where he attends the Law School and she undergraduate. In an exclusive interview, Vance said that "Serena and I are just getting to know each other, but I think that it could turn into a meaningful relationship." It's certainly a lucky match for Ken Johnston, whose ratings in the polls have gone up by at least ten percent since the news got out. We'll be right back after these messages."

Everybody turned to stare at me, but I still gaped at the screen in dumbfounded disbelief. How could he have done this to me? He publicized a fake relationship with Mr. Creep so that he could go up ten percent in the polls? Far from wanting to cry, I was about ready to put my foot through the television screen.

"Serena," Amy ventured in a small voice. "Is it true?"

"Of course not!" I shouted, standing up and pacing around the room. "Of course it isn't! Do you honestly think that I would go after that snotty, zit-faced, lemming! He's been bugging me the past three weeks, but I didn't think he would actually say something like that. I bet his dad put him up to it…damn it, I bet my dad put him up to it."

"Woah, Serena, calm down." Lita said, trying to hide a grin. "After all, it is kind of cute, cliched and corny. All good reasons for your father to exploit it."

"I think it's kind of cool that you were actually on television, Serena. You're famous." Mina's eyes had that rosy glow that meant she was impervious to all reason.

I glared at her. "Well, I hope you become famous some day, and tell me how you like it, because this is as far as it goes. I am going to call my Dad and tell him how I feel about the whole thing. And then he is going to call every damn TV station in the country and tell them that it isn't true."

I stomped out of the lounge, fully intending to blast my Dad, but when I called, Mom just stalled me.

"Well, dear, he is rather busy right now, in a meeting. Why don't you call back later?"

"Mom, I have to talk to him now. I don't care if he is in a meeting. Tell him that it's an emergency."

"I'm not so sure that it's a good idea to talk to him if you're not in the right frame of mind, honey."

"Believe me, mom, I'm definitely in the right frame of mind."

"If this is about the whole Vance Jr. thing, believe me, he has good reason. It's all for--"

I cut her off. "He has absolutely no reason to involve himself in my private life!" I raged, making other people in the hall stare at me. "He has already screwed up my life enough as it is--you have no idea how much. He doesn't need to go around making it worse for a measly ten percent in the polls!"

"Actually, honey, ten percent is a lot, as you know--"

That was it, I couldn't take it anymore. I hung up the phone, angrily wondering when mom would get some backbone. It wasn't the first time Dad had done that, just the first time he had done it so obviously to me. Frustrated again, I wandered back to the lounge, considerably deflated. They all looked up at me, but didn't say anything. They had probably heard me anyway. The phone wasn't that far away, and I had been screaming. I plopped back down on the couch, and noticed that we were now watching the news, specifically, the weather report.

"…negative twenty degrees tonight, and almost negative thirty with wind chill estimated for tomorrow night." The weatherman was saying, pointing to some incomprehensible lines on his map.

Lita mock-shuddered. "No wonder I've been feeling like I've been in the barren wastes of Siberia."

"It's always like this around now." Mina said. "What I want to know is if we're going to get any snow."

"But if we get too much snow, they may cancel classes!" Amy said with such a horrified expression that we had to stare at her. The weatherman interrupted us.

"We will definitely see at least six inches of snow tomorrow night, possibly over a foot…" The rest of his sentence was made inaudible by the volume of Mina's shriek. She bounced up and danced around the room whooping and hollering enough to make us all start to laugh.

"Maybe it will be pretty cool." I said smiling. "The last time DC got that much snow was when I was in sixth grade."

"Well then," Mina said, still bouncing, "I'll just have to show you how to properly utilize snowy weather." She said, with mock seriousness. "Yes! Everything, the proper packing of a snowball, proper tactics for running away from snowballs, proper methods of traying without getting caught by the cafeteria, and above all, ice skating!"

"Sure, Mina." Lita said, laughing, and then looked at her watch. "But I for one am going to have to get some sleep if you're planning to give us your…expert advice. It's almost eleven." We said goodnight to her. It didn't take long for Mina and Amy to realize how tired they were, and soon I was alone in the lounge. I stared into space for a while, vaguely hearing the news. I was tired, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight any more than I could this past week. Something caught my ear, though, and I turned to see the weatherman back again.

"Tomorrow night, there will be a lunar eclipse. Between the hours of eleven thirty and twelve thirty, the moon will be fully covered by earth's shadow and will appear red…"

That was strange. I had never heard of a red moon before. I wondered what it would look like, and knew that I would see it, since I had seen the moon every other night this week. Without anything better to do, I shut off the television and trudged up the stairs to my room. Raye was there when I walked in, and we ignored each other studiously. She was, apparently, about to go to bed anyway. I didn't even bother changing my pajamas, and sat on my bed cross-legged, staring out the window.

"I know you feel guilty, Raye." I said quietly. She didn't answer, but I sensed her stillness. "We were friends. You said that you didn't want a guy to pull us apart, but you allowed him to. I guess that I'm partly to blame for that. When I love people, I think I love too strongly. A tragic flaw, I guess. It's okay, if you don't want to be friends anymore, we don't have to be roommates next year. I'd like you to be, though. If we never knew Darien, this never would have happened, you know. But I can't say I regret it, because I did enjoy my time with him. I hope you enjoy yours. What's terrible is that Darien really is wonderful when you're with him. Just…watch out, Raye. When he bites, it's fatal." My breath fogged on the window, and my tears splashed on the sill. Raye turned off the light.

That night I discovered the poem. I had read the anthology haphazardly, just flipping to random pages and reading whatever poems struck my fancy. Dorothy Parker had a wonderful range, with poems from two lines to thirty. Most were cynical pieces about love--or lack there of. The title caught my attention, it was different from all her others. It seemed more like the title of a classic love poem than the others I had read. When I finished it, I wished I had never found it. My chest racked painfully, but no amount of tears seemed to relieve the pressure inside of me. Amy hadn't meant for it to happen. She had probably never read the poem--it was in the back of the book, sandwiched in between some of her long-winded rants. Only, it was as if Dorothy Parker had reached into the future and knew that one day Serena Johnston would be reading her poetry and that on this particular night, she was too tired, exhausted and sad to resist its glaring temptation. I wondered again what had happened in her life to make her write such a poem, and I wondered if we were kindred spirits, separated by time but bound by similar experiences. I hugged her book closely to my chest during that sleepless night, and knew that something within me had changed, irrevocably.

------------------------

I did not leave my room that entire day. I didn't have any classes on Saturday, and even if I had, I wouldn't have gone to them. School suddenly seemed like such a joke compared to what I was facing within myself. Raye looked at me, curled up on my bed, my head resting on the window, but she didn't say anything. Eventually, she jut left the room, too scared to confront me. It was okay, I understood her, and I didn't blame her for it. I didn't blame anyone now. The sky looked increasingly cloudy, and I wondered what the weathermen were saying about that snow now. At least Mina would be happy. I remembered when I would have gotten that excited about snow. But happiness, just like school, seemed like a transient memory that I couldn't quite get a grip on any longer. I didn't eat, but that was nothing new. I had barely eaten a thing all week. I wondered, frankly, why it mattered anyway. I wondered why anything mattered at all. It was obvious that I loved Darien. I couldn't stop it, and time only seemed to be making it worse. Every day Darien found a new way to make me hurt more until I was one ball of pain, without a beginning or end. If only it had been a clean break, like with Lita and her parents, instead of this long, agonizing withdrawal. Because he didn't want me. Not because of the person I really was, but the person I was born to be. He had, as Lita said, denied his capacity to love. In a vague way, I was angry with him, but I felt most strongly an overwhelming despair. I did not know what to do with myself. Around one o'clock, Amy knocked on the door, and came in. She looked afraid, but I was too numb to realize that she was afraid for me.

"Serena," She said tentatively, "Are you all right? Do you want to come to lunch with me?"

I shook my head mutely, and stared out the window.

"I've noticed…" Her voice caught. "I've noticed that you haven't eaten much lately. That really isn't good for you, you know. And I don't think you've been sleeping either. You ought to take care of yourself." She walked closer to me when I didn't respond. "Serena. You have to listen to me. I see what you're doing to yourself, and…it scares me. Please feel better, okay? Serena…" She trailed off, crying. I looked at her, my own tears completely dried up.

"Amy," I whispered. "I'm sorry."

She nodded, and ran out the door, leaving me alone again. I turned on the radio and lay back down on my bed again. Then I pulled out all of my favorite comic books from under my bed and read them cover to cover. I knew that I was just stalling. I knew that something would happen soon, but I had lost the ability to predict my own moods. I only knew that right now I wanted to lose myself as best I could. After I had read all of Rayearth, Ranma, Tenchi and Sailor V, it was nine o'clock. I sat up, and looked with foggy eyes out the window. It was snowing, I noted first. Thick, large flakes that made the snow grow quickly. Below, Raye and Darien hugged goodbye and she went inside. I felt the familiar horror when I saw that, but I was distanced from my body now. I had grown used to pain. Darien stayed below the window. I wondered if he would see me, and just as I did his eyes went up the building as if drawn by a magnet. I fell forward when our eyes locked, my forehead pressed against the window. I suddenly felt warm, like fire was spreading throughout my body. I knew that my eyes eloquently formed the question that had been on my mind for weeks: 'why?' And his eyes were naked for a moment, revealing a hurt as deep as my own. His mask fell adeptly into place again, and he shrugged his shoulders and walked off. He had given me his answer, more clearly than words.

"Because I had to."

------------------------

I waited until Raye had definitely gone to sleep, since I knew there wasn't a chance of waking her. I went to the closet and dragged out my warmest winter clothing. I had an idea, a shape in my head, and I would follow it, even if I didn't know where it would lead. Anything was better than staying here, trapped in my own sadness with nothing better to do than contemplate why the only man I had ever loved could not love me. I put on my clothes silently, without fear. At the last second, though, I began to doubt what I was doing, and then I spotted the Dorothy Parker book, still next to my pillow. I picked it up and reread the poem. Yes, I was determined. Just as I was walking out the door, I stopped again. Inexplicably, I ripped the page out of the book and taped it to the window. No one, except possibly Darien, would understand, and Darien would not care enough to do anything about it. Do anything about what? A part of my mind questioned. I still had not admitted what was lurking in the back corners of my mind. I only accepted that I was doing something, something that would stop my torment forever. That was as far as I could go. I left the room and shut the door behind me. I hitchhiked until I reached the area Darien had taken me to that night. I didn't really know where to go, since I hadn't been paying attention to what side streets he used, but I must have had a homing signal, because I soon recognized the area where he had parked his bike. Satisfied, I trekked through the woods, made slightly harder this time because of the snow. It was cold outside, much colder than it had been the last time, and I wondered again what I was doing here. But it was too late to turn back, and something within me didn't want to. I finally came out the other end, after falling down several times. I gasped when I saw the beach. The ocean was frozen. In a delicately crystalline shape, even the ocean had succumbed to winter. I trudged through the snow to the edge of the ice. I was afraid to touch it, since I had never seen anything like it before. I had always thought of winter as so cold and dead, but it did have its own austere, untouchable beauty. I thought back to the first time he had brought me here, and what we had come so close to doing. I understood why he hadn't, and I loved him for it. He had loved me then, that action made me sure of it. What had changed? I sat down in the snow, shivering. It certainly was cold, wasn't it? I stared at the sky, at the snow that kept falling. It looked like it was beginning to stop though, and some stars were showing fuzzily through. Then I saw the moon.

It was blood red, and I shuddered, not entirely because of the cold. It was beautiful, but in a much harsher, more violent way. It looked angry, without the calm serenity that I remembered from that night over a month ago. I lay back in the snow in order to get a better view of it. I could barely see the bunny through the gentle film of snow clouds. I stared and stared, wondering what Darien would say if he saw it. Wondering if he would have given in, if the moon had been this angry that night. I wondered if the moon was this angry because of what he had done, or maybe it was something that I had done. The cold seemed to seep into my bones, until it was almost impossible for me to move them. The snow fell on top of me, but I could not seem to brush it off. I shivered uncontrollably, but my eyes were still riveted to the moon. Maybe it wasn't angry, maybe it was bleeding. Perhaps it was sad like I was, and it was slowly losing its vitality, its strength. Something within me knew that something terrible was happening, but could not explain exactly what it was. My thoughts seemed perfectly logical in the parallel universe I had entered. I knew that I was getting dangerously cold, but at some point during the night, it seemed like I was actually getting warmer, although I couldn't feel my body. I watched the moon bleed all night long, and I felt as though I were bleeding with it. All of my life, my love, my fire was slowly seeping out of my body, hidden beneath pristine white snow. All because of Darien, who didn't love me. I had read stories about girls who died of lovesickness, but I hadn't believed them. It had seemed too far-fetched, to implausible to me then. But now, I was the girl in the story, the one who had placed everything on the soul of one man, and had been betrayed. I don't know when it happened, but eventually, the moon turned again its normal color, pale and silvery white--practically bled to death.

And then I knew what I was doing. I knew what my subconscious had known all along, when it was too late for me to do anything about it. I was frozen, in the snow, practically buried in it. I knew that within a matter of hours, I would be dead. And suddenly, I didn't want to die. I didn't want to hurt either, but anything was better than lying out here, freezing to death. So long as I lived at least there was a chance Darien would admit that he loved me. If I died, then I was giving everything up, admitting that all I had ever believed in--true love and destiny--was a farce. I couldn't do that. But it was too late. My mind raged, but my body had already given in. I was too cold to move, to numb to feel my own body. I felt myself sliding into unconsciousness dangerously alien to sleep. I fought it, but I knew I would lose. I repeated his name over in my head, as if he would somehow know I needed him, and was thinking about him this far away. My last thought, before everything went black, was of the poem I had taped to the window.

"Please remember me." It was a croak, emitted against all odds from frozen lips.

------------------------

_I Know I Have Been Happiest_

I know I have been happiest by your side  
But what's done is done, an all's to be  
And small the good of lingering dolefully  
Gaily it lived, and gallantly it died  
I will not make you songs of hearts denied  
And you, being man, would have no tears of me  
And should I offer you fidelity  
You'd be, I think, a little terrified

Yet this need of woman, this her curse  
To range her little gifts, and give, and give  
Because the throb of giving's sweet to bear  
To you, who never begged me vows nor verse  
My gift shall be my absence, while I live;  
After that, my dear, I cannot swear.

Dorothy Parker


	8. A Purgatorial Interlude

BIG DISCLAIMER:

I am reposting my Sailor Moon fanfic _Fire_ at because the old site where I first posted it, A Sailor Moon Romance, has died. I wrote this over eight years ago, and while it will always hold a special place in my heart (the first novel I ever attempted), I sincerely hope that my writing has improved since then. On the other hand, at the time a lot of people wrote to me how much they liked it, and it seemed a shame that those people wouldn't be able to find it online anymore once ASMR died. HOWEVER, please think of this fic along the lines of a historical document. Especially if you found this because you like my Veronica Mars fiction...well, this is a little less sophisticated. On the other hand, it's fun, so what the hell :) I'm going to post a chapter a day until it's finished.

ALSO...you might be interested to know that I have published an actual novel, in actual stores: Racing the Dark by Alaya Dawn Johnson (that's me, of course). If you like this, PLEASE consider buying it or at least telling your librarian to get a copy. A lot of novels get published each year, and it's so easy for them to get lost in the deluge. I'm afraid that's what's happening to my book, so if you like any of my stuff I hope you'll think about it. If you want to know more (and read the first three chapters), you can go to my website. It's my full name, "Alaya Dawn Johnson" without any spaces, dot com.

**[More melodrama! Maybe I missed my calling. I should be writing for _Guiding Light: College Edition_. Or maybe just Sweet Valley University. Btw, it says this is Chapter 8, but technically the next chapter is 8.**

A Purgatorial Interlude:

Raye woke with a start, groggily staring around the darkened room. She had had a nightmare, but the memory was already slipping away, leaving her with a vague, formless sense of fear and danger. The room was bathed in an eerie red light, and she looked out the window, noticing the red moon. She wondered if she was seeing things, until she remembered hearing something about a lunar eclipse tonight. As she woke up, she began to sense that something was missing. She looked out the window again, past Serena's bed, and then realized what was wrong: Serena was gone. For some reason, Raye's stomach clenched in fear. It wasn't unusual for Serena to disappear, but she had been dangerously depressed over the past week, and Raye had the guilty feeling that she was chiefly responsible for it. Raye tried to pass it off, lying back down in her bed and closing her eyes, but sleep eluded her. No matter how irrational the feeling, she knew that Serena had gotten herself in trouble. As terrible as things had been between them lately, Raye couldn't stand the thought of Serena helpless and alone. Muttering angrily to herself--what right did Serena have to disappear and make her worry like this, anyway--she got out of the bed, and walked over to Serena's side of the room. It was then that she noticed a sheet of paper taped to the window. She wrapped her arms around her body, feeling a cold penetrating inside her bones. With a shaking hand, she peeled the paper off the window, realizing that it had been ripped from a book. Probably that strange book of poetry that she had been obsessed with this past week. Still annoyed, Raye read the poem.

Her hands went limp, and the paper fluttered to the floor. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, fatally wrong and it was all her fault. In light pencil, Serena had underlined the words "while I live." She should have seen it coming, she had seen the signs all week, but she had chosen to ignore it, pretending that Serena was just being melodramatic. And now it might be too late. Roughly wiping the tears from her eyes, Raye pulled on some clothes in record time, grabbing her hat, scarf, gloves and boots. Finally she picked up the paper and shoved it in her pocket. There was only one person she could talk to, only one person who might know where Serena had gone. Perhaps, if she went quickly, she could redeem herself. Raye ran out of the dorm and down the snow-covered path. She had to find Darien.

------------------------

Darien lay awake in his bed, wondering when he would fall asleep. His dreams had been tormenting him lately, making this state of strained wakefulness preferable to sleep. He could not seem to get his thoughts off of her. Raye was just a distraction, a method of forgetfulness. It wasn't working though. Even when he was with her, all he could think about was how it felt to be with Serena, how incredibly happy he had been with her. Why did she have to be Ken Johnston's daughter? It had been perfect for a time, and then everything had been destroyed. He saw how he was hurting her, and he knew how he was hurting himself, but there was no helping it. He could never truly love, never truly understand someone who was born to privilege like Serena. At least, that was what he told himself. That was what he repeated to himself every day, when he felt like giving in, like loving her the way he wanted to. Because if it wasn't true, then everything he had done--to both of them--was a lie and unnecessarily cruel. He remembered how he had seen her the other day, asleep in the lecture hall after class. She had looked so cute, so relaxed. With her eyes closed, he could see none of the pain that she accused him with every time their eyes met. He could pretend, as he watched her, that everything was okay, that he was not destroying both of them. Tossing over in his bed, Darien fell asleep again, against his will. He knew the nightmares would come, and this time they did, with a vengeance.

He was freezing. He had not known that it was possible to be this cold and still be alive. His blood seemed to slow down in his veins. He did not know where he was, he only saw an eerie red glow that made him inexplicably afraid. Gradually he grew aware of another presence, someone who was calling to him. It felt like Serena, he thought. She was calling his name--he could hear her clearly now. She was upset and in trouble. Darien called out to her, but his words stuck in his throat. He tried to struggle to reach her and save her from whatever was happening, but he could not move. He could not see. He was trapped in this world that was the color of blood. She called his name again, more faintly this time, and he could tell that she was slipping away. He knew that if he didn't get to her soon, she would die. The prospect of her dying scared Darien more than he wanted to think about. He struggled even harder, straining to force his limbs to work, to reach her before it was too late. Nothing worked, he called her name again and again, trying to tell her that he was coming, but he could not speak and her cries grew fainter. The last thing he heard, in a voice that ripped him apart with guilt were these words:

"Please remember me."

------------------------

"Darien, for God's sake, wake up!" Raye shook him violently, wondering what dream he could be having that would make him look like that. His face was contorted with grief and frustration. His lips were moving, but no sound came out of them. She recognized what he was trying to say, though. She should have known before this that he was still in love with Serena. She had tried to deny it, but when she saw him, even in sleep, calling her name, Raye knew that she would never have a chance. She also knew that to go along any more with this farce would be impossible. She would tell Darien that, she had to, but first he had to wake up. After a couple more shoves, Darien's face went slack and he opened his eyes gradually.

"Where…" He muttered, staring at her in confusion.

"Come on, get up Darien. This is important." He blinked again, and seemed to regain more of his composure. He sat up, and Raye felt a momentary thrill at the sight of his exposed chest. No more of that, Raye told herself sternly.

"What is it, Raye? What are you doing here this late?"

Raye stood up and began pacing around the room, running her hands through her hair. She couldn't believe that this was happening! "Serena's gone." She said flatly.

If she held any remaining doubts about Darien's true affections, his reaction when she said that should have removed all question. He started violently from the bed, and ran in his boxers to the closet where he began putting on some clothes.

"Do you know where she went? Did she say anything to you?" He asked, pulling on a pair of pants.

"She hasn't talked to anyone for a week." Raye said, frustrated. "We've known she was depressed, but I don't think any of us…admitted the extent of it." Darien's expression when she said that looked about as guilty as she felt. Yes, he held a fair share of the blame in this fiasco, Raye realized.

"But," she continued, "she did tape this to her window. She ripped it out of this book Amy gave her, Dorothy Parker, I think." She handed it to Darien, wondering what he would think when he saw it. She hoped, she prayed to God, that she had been right and Darien would know where she had gone.

Darien read it over and over again, his stomach clenching in panic when he read the words she had underlined. He thought back to his strange dream and the last words he had heard Serena say. He thought about the strange red lunar eclipse. He went back further, to the first time he had denied a part of himself to her, and suddenly he knew. He knew with absolute certainty where she had gone, and that it may already be too late.

Raye watched with a growing sense of horror as Darien stared at the poem for an impossibly long time. Did he know? Finally, he released it and buried his head in his hands, whispering her name. Raye felt suddenly distanced, like a spectator to a great romantic drama. She had played her role, and now she had to save the two who were really meant to be together. If she resented it, she still knew that after all she had done to Serena, it was her obligation. Besides the fact that Serena was her friend, and she wanted her to be happy.

"Do you know where she went?" Raye ventured, finally.

Darien lifted his head, a violently determined expression on his face. "Yes." He said stonily.

"Where?"

"A small beach, about half an hour away from here. I…took her there, one day."

"Darien, it's negative thirty degrees out there, and it's snowing!" she said, staring outside.

"I know." He said quietly. "But we have to try."

He put on the rest of his clothes in silence. Raye noticed, when he reached for his scarf, that his hands stilled and his expression changed to guilty pain. Had Serena given it to him, Raye wondered. It did look strangely feminine, now that she thought about it. She never got a chance to ask, though, because Darien was already walking towards the door.

"Do you know anybody with a car?" Darien asked.

"What about your motorcycle--" Raye began, and then cut herself off. Of course he couldn't use it. If Serena really was freezing to death out there, she would be in no condition to ride on the back of a motorcycle.

"Well," she began again. "We can ask Mina. Her family lives around here, they probably have one that we can borrow."

That decided, the two ran back across campus, fear adding urgency to their steps. Darien knocked roughly on Mina's door, and she opened the door sleepily, revealing heart-printed long pajamas. When she saw Darien and Raye, though, she knew that something was wrong. She lost the last residuals of sleep immediately.

"What the hell is going on?" She asked, but she wondered if she already knew. Darien's presence could only mean that it had something to do with Serena, and from their expressions, it couldn't be good. She braced herself, but she still wasn't prepared when she heard Darien's quick explanation.

"She went where?" Mina exclaimed. "Why would she do that? Doesn't she realize that she could kill…" Mina trailed off, an expression of newfound horror on her face. "I can't believe this." She said finally. "I just can't. You guys go wake up Amy and Lita. They ought to know about this too, I guess. I'll go get dressed and call my parents. We can meet in the lounge in ten minutes, okay?"

Darien looked as if he were going to tell her to hurry up, but Raye quickly grabbed his elbow and steered him away from the door. Ten minutes later the five of them stood in the empty lounge. Darien was pacing restlessly, running his hand through his hair. Lita looked as if the slightest touch might make her burst into uncontrollable sobs. She had already lost her parents, and she could barely stand the thought of losing Serena like that as well.

"We can use the van, but it's stick shift and I don't know how to drive it." Mina said as soon as she ran into the room.

"I can. How far away is it?" Darien asked, wheeling around.

"Maybe ten minutes, if you walk quickly."

"All right, I'll go and one other person should come with me…"  
"I will." Raye volunteered quietly. She needed to talk to him anyway.

"Um…Darien?" Amy began, "If Serena really has done this, then it might have been a while. And you don't know how…bad her condition is, so it might be a good idea to call the paramedics."

Darien stopped pacing. Of course, he thought to himself. He had to think this thing through properly. If he messed up now, it may cost Serena her life.

"You're right. But they'll never find it on their own. I'll have to show them where it is…but I don't want to wait much longer…"

"There's a cell phone in the car. I know the number. You go with Raye now, and we'll wait here, call the ambulance, and then I'll call you and you can tell me how to get there. Here's the key." Mina said, tossing him one of the spares her parents had pressed on her when she had gone to college. She had thought it stupid that they insisted she keep the key to a car that she couldn't drive, but now she was just grateful for it. It seemed that danger made her mind work faster, because she felt an unnatural calm over the rush of adrenaline.

"Where's your house?" Darien asked, over his shoulder.

"I know where it is." Raye said. She had been there once for dinner and it wasn't that hard to find. The two of them pushed back into the snow, walking as quickly as possible through the deserted streets. It was good, at least, that they had a van, because driving in this weather was going to be a problem. He hoped that it wouldn't be too long before they convinced the paramedics of their story. It must seem a little implausible to them, he realized. In seven minutes flat he and Raye reached the house and the van. Wasting no time for conversation, Darien quickly brushed the snow from the windshield with his hands and opened the car door. They were on the road in minutes, Darien practically flooring the car in order to get there faster. They were silent for several minutes. His attention was focused completely on saving Serena. Raye had that in mind too, but along somewhat different lines. She had to talk to him. Now was probably the only good time she would have to do it anyway. Taking a deep breath, she began what she knew she had to say since the moment she read the poem.

"Darien, she's in love with you. You have to know that."

He gritted his teeth and pushed the gas pedal harder. "I do."

"You also know that this…relationship of ours isn't working. I can't go out with someone who is in love with someone else. When I heard what you did to her…I'll admit that I was happy, but I also couldn't believe it. Darien, I know that you love her. Anyone who saw you two together for five minutes would realize it. What I did was…wrong. But it never would have happened if you hadn't been such a bastard! Don't you realize that the reason she did this is because of you? You, with your misplaced pride. You rejected her because of a father that she doesn't agree with and a lifestyle that she hates! Do you know that she's barely eaten for a week and a half? I know that if you think about it, Darien, you'll realize that what you've done was wrong."

Darien's hands tightened painfully around the wheel, until they were almost white. "All right, maybe I deserved that. But Raye, it's not like you've been an angel yourself. She's your roommate and your friend. Why did you agree to go out with me in the first place?"

"Because I liked you!" Raye shouted, crying. "Because I fooled myself into believing that you really could fall in love with me, and not Serena. And you used me, instead. I should have known."

"You have no idea what it's like, to betray everything you've ever known because of one girl. She's a rich soon-to-be president's daughter, and I'm just the poor orphan grandson of a fruit farmer…"

"For God's sake, Darien! This is Serena we're talking about, not Grace Kelly! Do you think she cares about any of that? She loved you before she knew about it, and she still does, which is more than anyone can say for you. She's still the same girl you fell in love with."

Darien was, mercifully, spared from replying to that by the ring of the car phone. He picked it up immediately, grateful to hear Mina's voice on the other end. Darien gave them directions as well as he could, although there was no real landmark he could describe to tell them where to enter the forest.

"We're going to get there about ten minutes after you." Mina said, reporting what someone was telling her. "You're supposed to find her and if we're still not there take her back to the car and try to keep her warm."

"All right." Darien said, pulling off the highway. He hung up the phone and he and Raye sat in strained silence as he navigated the back roads. Almost too soon, he stopped the car in the middle of a long stretch of wooded road. Raye didn't know how he could know where he was--everything looked the same when it was so dark. She and Darien got out of the car, and she stood behind him. He looked about to move, but then stopped, and turned around to look at her.

"Raye, before we find out what…happened, I just want to tell you that you're right. Totally right and I'm sorry, I guess. For everything." He did not give her time to reply, quickly turning and plunging into the forest. She rushed after him, trying not to fall over tree roots hidden by snow. Abruptly the forest ended, giving way to an expanse of pristinely white snow at least a foot deep. The water was frozen, Raye noted, before she realized the source of Darien's horror stricken expression: Serena wasn't there.

------------------------

Darien stared at the unblemished expanse of snow before him, numb with shock. This couldn't be happening. She had to be here. If she wasn't, then he was lost. He raked the ground again with his eyes, praying that he had missed her. He ran further into the snow.

"Serena!" He called, distantly aware that his voice held a note of hysteria. He could not contemplate what he would do if he couldn't find her. Her faced loomed before him, accusing him. Her blue eyes were no longer sad, they were angry. He had driven her to do this, and now he couldn't even save her. He stared at the moon, in a vain attempt to ignore the image. Of course, she was there too. He had called her Usako that night, he remembered. She had looked so happy then. He had made her happy and the thought amazed him. Without conscious thought, Darien walked to where they had been on the beach that night. Perhaps it was his strained state, or the power of the moon that night, or even the power of his love, but as Darien moved forward he tripped over an inordinately large stone, hidden under the deep snow. Even as he fell headfirst, he knew that he hadn't tripped over a stone. It was Serena, and somehow, he had found her. He scrambled up, frantically brushing the snow away from where he knew she was, revealing her bulky coat that he had always made so much fun of. He was silent, but only because he could not seem to speak. For one horrified moment he looked at her face, pale and slightly bluish around her lips, and thought that she was dead. He felt everything, his happiness, his existence, crash around him. He knew, in that moment, that Serena's death was tantamount to his own. He could not survive a blow like that. The moment passed, however, and he gratefully felt the faint puff of air on his cheek when he held his face above hers. No, he had not been too late. Giddy with relief, he dug his arms in the snow beneath her and picked up her recumbent form. She hung limply in his arms, and he was painfully reminded of the last time that he had held her so--under such drastically different circumstances. He was surprised again at how light she was. He walked quickly back through the snow, forcing himself not to run. If he fell now, he knew that it would be a disaster. He could feel how cold she was, even through his gloves. He knew, even without his pre-med training that she was near-death. Frantically, he searched through his brain for a few sentences in a textbook about hypothermia. One thing stuck out, he remembered, that it was imperative to treat hypothermia patients extremely gently. Any wrong move on his part now would cost her life. A few more minutes and it may have been too late. It may still be, he knew. Raye ran forward when she saw him carrying Serena, her eyes carrying the fatal question.

"Yes," he said aloud, answering, "but maybe not for long. Run ahead of me and start the car." She took the keys and ran. Remembering again something, he called after her: "Don't turn on the heat!" She just turned and nodded, and continued running, aware that now was not the time to question. Darien had just realized that if Serena were exposed to warm air immediately, the shock might send her into cardiac arrest. Darien followed Raye closely behind, hampered by his need to protect Serena. As badly as he wanted to sprint, his rational mind had taken a firm hold of his actions. He would save her this time, and he would do it right. He had to redeem himself.

"Please live." Darien repeated, as he made the tortuous walk back through the forest. "Just live, Serena, and whatever you want…" he could not get anything else out. The emotion was foreign to him, but unavoidable. Finally, he emerged from the forest. He quickly scanned the road, but the ambulance still hadn't arrived. Raye leaped out of the car and opened the back seat, he gently placed Serena inside, and then climbed in after her. Raye had not turned on the heaters, as the car was meat-locker cold, and he thanked her silently. He quickly stripped Serena of her snow-caked clothing, revealing a charming set of bunny pajamas underneath. He almost cracked when he saw those, almost broke down and cried over her, so remorselessly sorry over what he had done. He almost did, but something again held him back, and he roughly regained control of himself. He could give into that later, when Serena didn't need him. As far as he knew, that might be for the rest of his life. Raye was calling the ambulance back, as Darien tried to keep Serena warm. She showed no signs of reviving, he noted, in fact, it looked to his inexpert eye as if she were in a coma, and slipping away from that fast.

"Tell them they have to get here, now!" He thundered to Raye. She didn't bother relating the comment over the phone, they had heard Darien loud and clear. Raye turned on the headlights to assist the ambulance in finding where they were. About two minutes later it came wailing to a stop, efficiently dragging a stretcher out of the back and wheeling it over to the car. Darien helped them load her onto the stretcher, and resisted the temptation to get in their way as they loaded her back into the ambulance. All he wanted to do was stay beside her, but he knew that it would only be an inconvenience. He knew enough about medicine to realize that Serena was dangerously ill. He had done all he could--of course, the situation was all his fault to begin with.

Lita, Amy and Mina all ran out of the ambulance as they loaded her on. It couldn't carry the three of them and Serena. In fact, only one person could ride with them.

"Darien, you go." Raye said seriously, pushing him forward.

"Who will drive the van?" He asked, desperately wishing to just follow her advice and forget about the van.

"I can drive stick." Volunteered Lita quickly. He thanked her, and sprinted into the ambulance. Almost as soon as he ran in, they closed the doors and sped off to the hospital, sirens blaring. Darien strapped himself into the special seat and prayed.

------------------------

"Well, at least I knew how to drive stick." Lita amended, after the ambulance had roared off.

"Lita!" Mina said accusingly, "You mean we're stranded out here?"

"Well, I sort of know how to do it, which is more than any of you can say. Besides, you all know that he needed to go with her. If worst comes to worst, we can always call a tow truck."

Mina sobered. 'Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry. This whole thing is just so scary, though."

"I know." Raye said quietly. "You should have been here when we first came. She was buried completely under the snow, we didn't even see her on the beach at first. Darien…he found her…I don't know how…"

Mina silently put her arm around Raye's shoulder. Raye was shaking, more out of shock than cold, and she was crying without really being aware of it. She led Raye to the car, and everyone climbed inside. Lita put the key in the ignition and started the car to turn on the heat, but she didn't feel like driving just yet. She knew that she had to calm down a little before she attempted it.

"Amy," Lita began, "she'll be all right, won't she?"

Amy was crying too, silent tears coursing down her cheeks. "I…don't know. I hope so. But…I heard them talking when they found her…it…it might be hard. We may be too late." She buried her head in her hands. "It's all my fault!" She whispered vehemently.

The others turned to her, surprised. "Of course it's not, Amy." Mina said, wiping away her own tears. "Why would you think that?"

"I gave her the book!" Amy choked out between bursts of tears. "You saw the poem, you saw what she underlined. If I hadn't given it to her…" She couldn't continue.

"Nothing would have changed." Lita said firmly. "I don't know what she was planning to do out here, Amy, but she would have done it with or without the poem. We all knew how depressed she was. Maybe we didn't do the best job we could of helping her out of it, but…this is no one's fault." Amy nodded, but the image of the ripped out page, the lightly underlined words still seemed like an indictment.

Silently Lita put the car in first gear and said two prayers: one that Serena would be okay and the second that she would remember how to drive the damn car.

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Darien knew what purgatory was. He also knew what hell was, but he was pretty sure this wasn't it. This wasn't painful unceasing agony. No, it wasn't nearly so satisfying. It was more insidious, an intense frustration and despair that wedged its way into his soul until he wanted to cry out and relieve the pressure. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't distract the only people who could save her life. So he kept his mouth shut and masked his eyes so no one could see inside him. She could always tell, he thought. No matter how well he hid himself from the outside world, she always knew what he was feeling. She had an ability to stare into his eyes and draw him out. He loved that about her. He loved everything about her--no matter whose daughter she was. Why had it taken him so long to realize that? Why, now when it could be too late, did he realize how important she was to him? It was more than stupidity, it was the bitterest, most painful irony of all. Now he was forced to wait, to live with the knowledge of his inadequacy and failure, and wait, praying that Serena would live to hear the truth.

He could not so much as hold her hand. It was driving him crazy, this extreme proximity to her form and his inability to touch her. He knew rationally that it would do no good, and might possibly cause some harm, but he could not dispense with the idea that if he could just hold her again, everything would be all right. They had put an oxygen mask to her face and attached an IV almost immediately. Her breathing was so shallow that it was nearly unnoticeable. Darien continually fought back waves of panic that she would die here, naked in an ambulance, and nothing that he did could save her. Her fingers and toes were mildly frostbitten, and the rest of her body was tinged a pale blue with cold. She was in a coma, they told him, and her temperature was still below thirty degrees Celsius, in the extremely critical range. There was equipment at the hospital that could save her life. The hospital however, was still fifteen minutes away, and no one knew how long she would last. Incidentally, no one knew how long he would last. Darien gripped the edge of the seat so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Serena," He whispered to himself, his eyes riveted to her slack face. "Just stay alive. Hate me all you want afterwards…I deserve it…just please live. I'm so sorry…."

Just fifteen more minutes. Time, however, does not make much of a difference in purgatory.


	9. Waiting Beauty technically chapter 8

BIG DISCLAIMER:

I am reposting my Sailor Moon fanfic _Fire_ at because the old site where I first posted it, A Sailor Moon Romance, has died. I wrote this over eight years ago, and while it will always hold a special place in my heart (the first novel I ever attempted), I sincerely hope that my writing has improved since then. On the other hand, at the time a lot of people wrote to me how much they liked it, and it seemed a shame that those people wouldn't be able to find it online anymore once ASMR died. HOWEVER, please think of this fic along the lines of a historical document. Especially if you found this because you like my Veronica Mars fiction...well, this is a little less sophisticated. On the other hand, it's fun, so what the hell :) I'm going to post a chapter a day until it's finished.

ALSO...you might be interested to know that I have published an actual novel, in actual stores: Racing the Dark by Alaya Dawn Johnson (that's me, of course). If you like this, PLEASE consider buying it or at least telling your librarian to get a copy. A lot of novels get published each year, and it's so easy for them to get lost in the deluge. I'm afraid that's what's happening to my book, so if you like any of my stuff I hope you'll think about it. If you want to know more (and read the first three chapters), you can go to my website. It's my full name, "Alaya Dawn Johnson" without any spaces, dot com.

**[Second to last...**

Chapter Eight: Waiting Beauty

Light. I was awash with light. Light, however, was supposed to be warm. I was colder than I had ever been, so cold that I no longer had a body. I was floating in this sea of light, towards some unknown destination. It was calming. I almost welcomed it after the weeks of hell. I thought back on those weeks curiously. So it seemed that even in a sea of light I could remember who I was. I could still remember Darien.

Darien.

His name jolted me, and I stopped moving for a second. Was he here, in this strange world? I looked around, but everywhere this same light blinded my eyes. I called his name, but my voice was eaten almost immediately. Was I dead? I wondered, sickened by the thought. How could I be dead, now, after all this? If I were dead, I realized, then I had killed myself. I had sat in the snow and stared at a blood moon until my own life bled away. Had Darien found me? Did he even know I was dead? I discovered that I wanted to cry, but I did not have a body to cry with. I still felt it. The gulping agony, the terrible despair of pure sadness enveloped me. What had I done? I hadn't meant to die. I had only meant to sit, and remember. I wanted Darien, not this!

Yet…I felt myself calm, and I continued floating through the void. It was so quiet, so peaceful to stay like this, bound by nothing, feeling nothing. I could distance myself from my emotions, if I chose, just as I was distanced from my body. If I wanted, I could stay here forever, and never have to worry about Darien again. I would never have to feel that pain again. I could float here for eternity, happy in willful ignorance. For a moment, I contemplated it. For a moment, it actually seemed like an appealing prospect. To never feel pain. To never be betrayed. To never lose love. To never have to say: it all meant nothing.

To never love at all.

And I stopped again, stunned at my realization. I wanted to love. I didn't want this absence of emotion. Even if it was damn painful, at least I had it. At least I had, at one point in my life, love passionately and been loved in return. If I never did again, at least I had been given this gift. I could not live in a world without Darien, no matter how calm or peaceful. I had to go back--even to see him with my best friend--I had to go back. I loved him, absolutely and unconditionally, and even death couldn't keep me from him. Around me the light began to flicker, and I felt myself fall. His name echoed in my head like a mantra, the reason and justification for what I was doing. My love for him seemed tangible, just then, like a fire filling me with uncontrollable heat. The light grew dimmer. I began to tingle, feeling the cold more acutely than before. Then the world went black. I crashed with a painful but satisfying force back into my body.

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I heard something beeping, faintly but steadily. Gradually, I opened my eyes, pulling against the odd stickiness that seemed to hold them together. I stared at a blank white ceiling for a while, wondering where I was. It all seemed to make some vague sense--this foreign, sterile room, the beeping in the background, my feeling of utter exhaustion. It did not take me long, however, to remember. Carefully, I looked around the room and realized that I was alone. Beside my bed was a heart monitor, the source of the fait beeping, its green screen tracing the beat of my heart. It occurred to me how close I had come to a flat line, and the thought made me shudder. There was a small television mounted from the ceiling in a corner, but no remote control was to be seen. I also noticed an IV needle in my arm. How long had I been out, I wondered vaguely, and where was Darien? I looked around the room again for any sign of him, but I was disappointed. Had he found me? Did he know what had happened? Did he even care? I rested my head back on the pillow, and closed my eyes painfully. I thought of him as I had last seen him, staring at me from below the window, his eyes filled with emotions I could see, but barely understand.

"Oh, Darien." I said, and my voice sounded hoarse and raw from disuse. Just then, the door opened, and I started. The nurse walked in, pulling a trolley behind her. She turned around to look at me, and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "You've come out of it! I've got to go get Dr. Reynolds." It occurred to me to say something, but I couldn't think of an appropriate response. This was just a little unreal. "You just wait right there, honey." She added, unnecessarily, and shot out of the door, trolley forgotten. I wondered what was going to happen, and also whether or not I would see Darien. Before I could contemplate that depressing line of thought again, another woman entered the room--the doctor, I assumed.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise." She said smiling, walking to the door.

I finally recovered my voice. "What's going on? How long have I been here?"

"Three days." She said matter-of-factly. "You were in a coma--we really weren't expecting you to come out of it this quickly, but you've been remarkably resilient considering what happened to you. You had severe hypothermia…we just barely missed operating."

I winced. What the hell had I done to myself? I saw that she was asking herself the same question, but she tactfully decided not to ask. What could I say, anyway? I really wasn't trying to commit suicide; I was just clinically depressed because the love of my life had dumped me for my roommate, so I went to the place where we almost made love and accidentally almost froze myself to death. Yeah, right Serena--that will go over well.

After a moment, she continued over the awkward pause. "You're recovering nicely, it seems. We'll probably be able to release you in another four or five days." She stood up and walked towards the door. "But there's a nice young man out there, who has practically lived at the hospital these past few days. Do you think you could talk to him for a few minutes?" She smiled knowingly. My pulse quickened--I knew it because the beeps on the machine practically doubled in frequency. I thought that I heard angels singing, and there definitely seemed to be a faint golden glow emanating from somewhere. I smiled broadly, and gripped my hands together tightly.

"Yes, of course!" I said breathlessly. So he did care! I shouldn't have doubted him, I decided. I had known that he must love me. All right, maybe I hadn't, but I definitely knew it now. Dr. Reynolds smiled and shook her head, shutting he door. Suddenly I looked down and realized that I was wearing a hospital gown. My dumplings had been taken out, and my hair hung limp and tangled all around me. I must look awful, I thought with rising panic. How could I face him looking like this? Quickly, I ran my hands through my hair and lay back a little, to try to cover up the ugly flower prints with my blanket. I was sort of glad I didn't have a mirror, though--I wouldn't be able to handle it if I knew how bad I looked. All too soon the door opened and the beeps on the machine grew louder and more insistent. I wanted to call out his name, but bit my tongue against the urge. The light of my happiness temporarily blinded me to the identity of the intruder. He gently closed the door behind him.

"Hello Serena." He said. Suddenly the light flickered and then cut off completely. That wasn't how Darien sounded! His voice was much deeper--sexier almost. I looked up, horrified and confused. Darien wasn't that pale, and he also didn't have enough zits to make a pepperoni pizza ashamed. He was much better built, and he was taller. It wasn't Darien, my sluggish brain finally realized.

It was Vance William Jr., my odious and unwanted Casanova.

------------------------

I groaned and leaned closed my eyes like an ostrich, praying that when I opened them again he would be gone and a smiling Darien in his place. I opened my eyes. Vance was still there. I felt like crying. Where was Darien? Had he not even bothered to come in the three days I had been lying here?

"How are you feeling?" He asked solicitously. I clenched my hands at my sides, aware of an urge to bite his head off.

"Like crap." I said, pursing my lips in an expression I'm sure was forbidding. Vance looked alarmed, but the practiced politician smile he had learned from his father remained plastered on his face.

"You really gave us a scare, you know." He said, sidling up to the bed. Under normal circumstances I would have slapped him, but it's a little awkward to be violent from a hospital bed. Especially when you feel like you've just been run over by a truck.

So I settled on sarcasm. "Oh, really?" I said, raising my eyebrows. "It's good to know that a liar and a phony was worried on my behalf. Whatever shall I do to repay you?"

"Serena," He said in a tone that made him sound like a bad voice-over in a fifties movie. He sat on the edge of the bed and before I could force my sluggish body to move away, he put his hand over mine. "Don't be mad at me." He said, with, I suppose, a look that was supposed to be pleading, but made him more resemble a begging dog. Finally, I managed to wrench my hand a way and glared at him.

"Don't be mad?" I said, my voice rising to its normally shrill tones. "Why shouldn't I be mad at you. You…sycophant!" By his blank expression I gathered that he didn't know what the word meant. I didn't care. "Stupid, idiotic, lying, cheating, zit-faced…" I searched for a word to appropriately sum up my feelings for him. "Scoundrel!" I finished triumphantly. He winced and looked really embarrassed. For one treacherous moment, I felt sorry for him, but that emotion was quickly squashed when I heard what he said next.

"After all, you have to admit that ours is an appropriate relationship. It's just not seemly for someone like you to go out with some farmer's son. When your father explained the situation to me, I thought it was the least I could do. You have to understand that."

I stared at him incredulously. Could he really be saying what I thought that he was saying? He was more of a jerk than I had given him credit for. I could barely stand looking at him now. He was the representative of everything I hated about my lifestyle: the superiority complex, the understated stupidity, the intolerance of anyone 'different'.

"Get away from me." I spat, disgust in my eyes. "I never want to see you again, ever. I would never go out with someone like you. I would rather die. You judge people by how much money their father makes, where they've been to school, who they know. What do you know about Darien? I'll tell you--absolutely nothing. And you will never know him, because he is different from you in every way that counts. He is the most…incredible person I have ever met, and you are no better than…pond scum! Who cares if he is a farmer's grandson? At least he isn't the bastard son of a corrupt vice-president."

He didn't say anything. To be fair, I don't know if there was anything that he could say to that. Turning abruptly around, an expression of horror on his face, he fled the room, leaving me exhausted and alone.

------------------------

No one entered the room for a long time after that, and I was alternately grateful for the time alone and bitter that no one I cared about wanted to visit me. I was aware that I was being slightly unfair--I had been in the hospital for three days, and my friends did have classes, after all. But still, I knew that it was not the solitude I resented, but the conspicuous absence of the one person I desperately desired to be with me. I kept eyeing the door, anticipating his entrance. He would open it slowly, I envisioned, with a tentative smile on his face as he peeked around the corner. In his eyes would be the unconditional love I had always longed for. I would smile, then, excited, but careful not to show too much emotion. Encouraged, he would walk all the way through the door and behind his back would be a beautiful bouquet of long-stem white roses: my favorite kind. Then, of course, I realized that he wasn't coming, and I ruthlessly stopped my fantasy from continuing. I could not get the idea of the roses out of my head, however. When I had been much younger, I had tried to write a song about white roses. Something about them--their pure color perhaps, or their shocking beauty had struck me as hopelessly romantic. Throughout all my years of virgin-lipped dreaming I had always wanted someone to give me white roses. With a poem, preferably, something shocking and original, telling me how much they loved me. And I would smile happily as I received them, tears glimmering in my eyes, and finally, looking up from the perfect expression of his love I would forgive him for everything he had ever done to hurt me. I would look into his blue eyes, once stormy and troubled, but now clear and peaceful, and say: "Darien, I love you too." And we would kiss them, him lifting me from the hospital bed, my arms locked around his strong neck so I would never let go.

Oh dear, I thought, returning to reality abruptly, that had been a stunning bit of maudlin sentimentality. I thought that I was going to stop dreaming about that. It seemed that with nothing better to do, my mind continually thought up better and better ways for Darien to make up with me. Unfortunately, the minutes were ticking by, and his absence, if anything, indicated that he was as disinclined to love me now as he had been before. Suddenly, I found myself struggling to stop real tears from flowing down my cheeks. Not tears of joy or relief, but of the most profound disappointment. Perhaps, in the back of my mind, I had somehow expected my near-death experience to make Darien realize how much he really loved me. I had always believed that he did, no matter how he denied it. Now, I was beginning to wonder. Had he, perhaps, meant what he said in that letter? The answer seemed so obvious, glaring in the face of his conspicuous absence. But I could not deny the emotions I had seen in his face, in his eyes. The emotions that only I could see and understand. I knew him intimately, and I knew I had already given myself to him completely. Was it possible that I would be forced to live without him for the rest of my life, knowing that I had found true love, but had never been able to live my life in the happiness of it?

"No!" I said aloud, my voice cracking, and my fist slamming into the sheets for emphasis. It couldn't happen like this. Not like this. Me, alone on a hospital bed and Darien still dating Raye? Where was my happy ending? Sure this was real life, but I had always believed that things would eventually turn out for the best. Could this, possibly, be the end of the road for Serena Johnston? Would I be doomed to be unhappy for the rest of my life? Despairing, I wished that no one had found me on that beach, or that I had never returned from my emotionless void. At least then, I wouldn't have had to face Darien's utter rejection of me. Turning violently away from the thought, I searched around the bed until I found the remote control. I turned on the television, and flipped through the channels. The only thing showing seemed to be bad afternoon sitcoms and soap operas. Finally, I settled on the news, for lack of anything better to watch. As a matter of fact, I didn't care what was on television, so long as I didn't have to wait in this sterile cubicle, staring at the white door, praying that the next person to turn the handle would be Darien. I stared at the screen dumbly for a few moments, barely comprehending what was on the screen, willfully having sunk into a type of catatonia. It was only when the news announcer mentioned the primaries that I perked up. I felt a sense of impending doom--every time I saw something about the primaries on the news, my father had had another surprise up my sleeve. Therefore, I wasn't surprised when they mentioned "Ken Johnston's daughter" I braced myself mentally for what was to come, it occurred to me that this had happened far to often recently.

"Tragically hospitalized right before Ken Johnston's Massachusetts campaign, Serena Johnston is reportedly in stable condition, although her doctors will not disclose any further details. Senator Johnston cut short his time in Washington to stay with his daughter in Massachusetts while she recovers. When not in attendance of his daughter, Senator Johnston has been making his presence known among the Massachusetts constituents, who have responded with understandable sympathy for his situation." Was it just my imagination, or had the newscaster said that last bit with a hint of sarcasm in his voice? I smiled despite myself. If nothing else, father was an opportunist. "The recent situation, however, has given him a slight edge over his major republican opponent, Alan Keyes, and the Massachusetts primary should be a close one." The newscaster moved onto other news--something about an outbreak of a potentially fatal strain of flu--but I didn't pay much attention. It was strange. I kept expecting myself to get mad, to slam my hand into the bed, or feel the telltale rage rip at my insides, but nothing much happened. The greatest emotion I was able to call up was simply mild annoyance. So he had used me again, but I had thoroughly learned what type of person my father was. The action did not feel like a betrayal anymore, simply a confirmation of what I already knew about him. What did alarm me, though, was the prospect that he might win the election. I didn't know what I would do if he became President, but I had the feeling that the answer was going to be something like moving to Japan.

I leaned back on my pillow, and stared up at the tile ceiling. If he was in Boston, though, where was he, I wondered idly. Not like I was itching to see him, but it would be nice to know that my father cared about me in some other capacity besides a political tool. Just for a little while at least. I had a feeling that this emotional lethargy would wear off eventually, but for now, it was good to relax a bit. Before I knew it I fell asleep again, dreaming of moonlit kisses and the hedonistic scent of white roses.

------------------------

I woke up on what, I suppose, was the next morning. The first thing I was sleepily aware of was the pervasive scent of…roses. That's impossible, I thought, snuggling deeper into my somewhat uncomfortable hospital pillow. It was the middle of winter, why would I smell roses? White roses, my mind corrected, but I dismissed that out of hand. How would I know what color they were? Even so, I was tempted to open my eyes, and discover if the delicate brush of something against my cheek was indeed a rose petal. The idea of being surrounded by roses was unbearably intoxicating and romantic. I wanted it to be true, but I was terribly afraid of it all being my imagination. As a result, I lay in my bed in a state of strained wakefulness, but willfully refusing to open my eyes and confront reality. But what if there were roses and they were from Darien? Would I want that? The question surprised me, because up till now I had automatically thought that any romantic gesture from Darien would be welcome. For the first time I wondered if I even wanted his affections anymore. Yes, I was still in love with him, I couldn't deny that. Still, could I trust him? I wondered if his continued betrayal of my emotions had ruined any chance of a relationship between us. Even if he did want me back, could I handle the perpetual uncertainty of never knowing when he would hurt me again? I had barely made it this time. It was practically a forgone conclusion that I would not survive it again. Well, these were all useless speculations, I realized, shifting slightly in my bed. I had to open my eyes and see if I was right after all.

Slowly, I pried my eyes apart and rubbed them gently. At first I was aware of only white and green surrounding my bed. Then my vision cleared and I gasped. It was just as I had always imagined; I was adrift in a sea of flawless white roses. I never understood how he knew my most private, romantic dream--but he always seemed to be able to read me like that. However, at that moment, I was not thinking such thoughts. I was only experiencing the purest joy I had felt in a very long time. The shriek that emanated from my throat could have been heard two blocks down the street, and I didn't care at all.

Yes, it really was great to be alive.

------------------------

Perhaps ten seconds after my shriek of joy, Doctor Reynolds burst into my room, a worried expression on her face. She relaxed almost immediately, however, when she saw the roses on my bed.

"Oh," She said, sighing. "I didn't realize he had already given them to you. He asked permission sometime last night."

I couldn't seem to think of a reply. I couldn't seem to think at all, actually. Instead, I picked up a rose and held it to my face, closing my eyes gently against the petals, and allowing the hedonistic scent to flow through my nostrils. Dr. Reynolds looked at me a little strangely, a smile playing on her lips.

"I wish someone had done something this romantic for me, at your age." She said under her breath, seeming to forget about my presence. Then she laughed, and shook her head as if to clear away the romantic sentiment.

"Anyway, I was just here to tell you that some of your friends are here, if you want to see them?"

I let the rose drop and perked up. They were here? Did that include Darien? I wanted it to, and yet I dreaded the thought of seeing him. Despite my trepidation I nodded eagerly.

"Well, enjoy." She said, as she left the room. I realized quickly that Darien wasn't there, and experienced a strange mixture of relief and acute disappointment. The sight of my friends, though, soon pushed him out of my mind for the time being. Mina, by far the most demonstrative of the group, ran to the bed practically as soon as she saw me.

"Serena!" She called, leaning down to hug me. She stopped in the nick of time when she noticed the roses. "Omigod!" She squealed, totally over come. "Did Darien send you these?"

"I'm pretty sure." I answered, still in somewhat of a daze.

"That is so romantic! I knew he had it in him." She said with evident self-satisfaction. "Were you awake when he gave them to you?" She continued, grilling me for information.

"Come on, Mina," Lita interrupted, "Don't tire her out."

"No I'm fine." I protested, and then realized that it was largely true. While the day before I had felt pretty nasty, I was far too happy this morning to feel anything but fantastic. "But it doesn't matter, because I don't know anything about what's going on. I only woke up this morning and found these. I haven't seen Darien at all."

The four of them suddenly looked at each other when I said that, exchanging an uneasy glance.

"Serena, Dr. Reynolds tells us that you will probably be able to leave within the week." Amy said quickly, trying to cover it up.

"I already know that, Amy." Well, actually, I didn't, but it didn't matter. "What is going on? Why did you look at each other like that when I said I hadn't seen him?"

"Well…um…Serena," Lita began. Raye, I dimly noted in the back of my mind had remained conspicuously silent during this entire exchange, barely glancing at me. That fact, however, was not my most pressing concern at the moment, and I relegated it to another time.

"See, Serena," Mina began, taking a deep breath and obviously forcing herself to say something unpleasant, "Darien isn't here any more." She said finally, and held her breath for my reaction.

I stared at her blankly. Perhaps my mental faculties had yet to recover from near-freezing, but I didn't understand what she was talking about. "Not where anymore?" I asked, slowly. Even so, something in their expressions scared me.

"I mean, Serena, that he left this morning for a semester exchange to Japan. He isn't coming back at all this year."

For a second I still looked at her blankly, and then the full import of her words hit me. "But…but…" I stuttered, unable to believe it, "He didn't tell me anything about it! Don't you have to plan these things in advance?"

Mina shrugged her shoulders, avoiding my eyes. I felt some of the old pain at the news, but it didn't tear at my insides the way it had for weeks. Perhaps the effect had been mitigated by the hopelessly romantic gesture of roses in my bed.

Raye spoke for the first time, and I turned towards her startled. "Darien gave this to me to give to you." She said, pulling something out of her purse, "I haven't read it, but it may explain some things." Even as I accepted the offering from her I knew that relations between us were still raw and painful. I longed to have the same rapport with her I had developed before the Darien fiasco, but I didn't know how to achieve it. We seemed to be staring at each other from opposite banks of a river. Again, pushing thoughts of Raye to the back of my mind, I saw that what she gave me was a scarf and a folded piece of paper. Not just any scarf, I realized, but my scarf, the one I had given him--had it only been two months ago? Shaking, I opened the letter, half expecting it to be yet another of the rejections I had come to expect from him.

Serena,

I write this letter knowing you will have nothing but contempt for my cowardice, but this cannot go unsaid. Please at least try to understand me, although you have every right not to sympathize.

There is no other way for me to say this, so I will say it simply: I was wrong, Serena, terribly, horribly wrong, and my mistake almost cost you your life. You don't know how grateful I was when I heard, two days ago, that you had come out of your coma. But I realized then, that I couldn't allow myself to hurt you anymore. I love you, Serena. More than I ever have, and ever will love anybody, and please, never doubt otherwise. Raye told me off two days ago because I refused to accept you for who you were--just like your father refused to accept me. She was right of course, but by then it was already too late. I want you, Serena, but I know that by now, you may not want me. If you don't trust me anymore, it's perfectly understandable. I have betrayed you far too many times to earn your trust. I have left for Japan because, quite simply, I cannot bear to be near you and yet be so far away from you anymore. It is far more than I have any right to expect, that you can let me into your heart again. So I have removed any need of you to do so. If you want me, any time you want me, I will be here. If you don't want me, I understand. You will never be under any obligation. In the small hope that you can some day come to forgive me, my address is at the bottom of the letter. Regardless of anything, I love you. Nothing can harm you unless you let it. Including yourself. Including--perhaps most of all--me.

Darien

------------------------

I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling hot tears coursing down my cheeks. He loved me. That simple sentence rushed through my head and formed itself on my lips, filling me with equal measures of sorrow and joy. Darien was right, did I trust him? When a guy like Darien controls your heart, it becomes necessary to get some insurance. Perhaps it was better this way, after all. As much as I would miss him, a period away from him would probably be beneficial. Smiling tremulously, I opened my eyes and looked at the faces of my friends. They held such intense expressions of worry that I nearly laughed out loud.

"Don't worry!" I said reassuringly. "Everything will be fine, you'll see."

I only wished I were as sure of that as I sounded.

------------------------

My parents finally bothered to visit me. I have to say that I was rather surprised--I had forgotten they were in town, and I hadn't really expected it. My mother came in first, my father closely trailing behind, with an air of mild contrition about him that shocked me. Was my father, the infamous Ken Johnston, genuinely feeling remorseful about something he had done to exploit me? The thought seemed too good to be true.

"Serena, honey, how are you feeling?" Mom asked, looking so genuinely concerned that I couldn't feel too annoyed.

"Fine." I said tersely, still looking at my unusually silent father. If they were so concerned about me, why had they taken so long to visit me?

"We would have come sooner..." Mom began, looking guilty.

"But the constituents called?" I finished sarcastically. Had I said that I wasn't bitter? Some sleep had definitely worked wonders for my disposition.

My father quickly lost his air of contrition and looked at me sternly. "Now, Serena, you know that isn't true. We came here as soon as we heard what had happened."

"You came to Boston." I amended. "You didn't come here. The Massachusetts primary isn't for another couple of weeks. Do your politics matter so much, Dad? Do I matter at all?"

His cell phone rang, just as his mouth was hanging in a startled 'o'. Of course, I thought fatalistically. My dad always figured out a way to avoid talking to me. I didn't know why I thought I could manage a decent confrontation today. He talked briskly for a few moments and then hung up.

"I'm sorry, honey, I have to leave for a couple of hours. We can finish this discussion later." He said, looking as though the prospect did not appeal to him.

"Yeah, sure, dad." I said despondently. "I'm sure they'll love you." I said tonelessly, as he whisked out of the door, presumably to some important political rally. I was alone in the room with my mom who, for her part, looked a little relieved at the exit of her husband.

"I really am sorry, Serena." She said again, and I could not hold on to my anger. Whatever my father was, she was a different species entirely. Sometimes I thought that she genuinely cared for me. "But to be fair, we were here, as you say. You were in a coma those three days, so you don't remember anything. It was only after we were sure you would be okay that he did some campaigning."

I sighed. This was my mom's world, and no amount of arguing and rationalizing from me would make her see my side of the issue. "Thanks mom." I said quietly, holding her hand.

"Honey…" She began, tentatively, an odd note of fear and compassion in her voice.

"Yes?"

"Did you…that night…were you trying to…" She couldn't finish. But I knew what she was saying, though. Had I tried to kill myself? It was an interesting question, one I wasn't sure I could answer. In some ways, I suppose I had, subconsciously wanted to die, but that wasn't all I had felt. As I looked into her eyes, scared and unsure, I knew what answer I had to give.

"No, mom. Of course not."

------------------------

"Mina," I asked, two days later, "Was Darien the one who found me?" I don't know why I hadn't asked before, but the thought hadn't occurred to me until later. Now I felt the most irrepressible curiosity. I was eating for the first time in what seemed like years, and the experience was not making me look forward to future occasions. All those stories about terrible hospital food hadn't been joking, I realized, as I pushed some congealing macaroni further away from me with my fork. Mina looked up in surprise, briefly glancing around for Amy, who had left to go to the bathroom.

"Didn't you know?" She asked, slowly. I shook my head. "Darien. Well, Darien and Raye really, and then the rest of us helped a little too."

I nodded. Yes, it made sense that it had been Darien. I had never really expected for it to be anyone else. But Raye? That surprised me. I had not seen Raye since that day all of them came to visit me, and I was beginning to wonder, despairingly, if we could ever be friends again. Darien had said something, though, in his letter about Raye. When had Raye defended me like that, I wondered.

"Where is Amy!" Mina suddenly burst out impatiently, startling me. Now that I thought about it, Amy had been gone for a long time.

"Do you suppose she got lost?" I asked staring dubiously at a pile of mashed potatoes. Didn't they serve anything decent at these places?

Mina rolled her eyes. "Amy? Serena, you've got to be kidding me. If this were you we were talking about, I'd give you an hour to find the place and an hour to go back. But Amy, as we all know, is a model of efficiency. She should have gotten back ten minutes ago."

I spluttered. "That's unfair, Mina! I could too find the bathroom on my own! Well, sometimes it's just con--" however, a very late, and very flushed Amy rushing through the door interrupted me. She glanced at us and took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm down and obviously not succeeding.

"Well, well," Mina said slowly, and I could see the suspicions flying across her brain at light speed. I knew that expression on her face, even if I didn't know what had happened to Amy: some matchmaking was going on. "What happened to you?" She continued, deceptively innocent.

Amy blushed deeply, confirming my suspicious. She opened her mouth but the first couple times no sound came out. "Nothing?" She finally said weakly, Mina's inimical gaze forcing her to turn the last word into a question.

"Now come on, Amy, you know that I can sense these things a mile away. It's no use hiding from me. Now tell me, what happened?" I leaned forward a little, food forgotten. To be honest, I was just as curious as Mina.

"Oh, all right!" Amy exclaimed, sitting down. "I met this guy…" She said dreamily.

"My God, Amy," I interrupted, shocked, "Did you read Sweet Valley books in your youth?"

Amy looked embarrassed. "Well, it's true." She muttered under her breath.

"I'm sure it is." Mina said firmly, giving me a reproachful glare. "Now, go on."

"Well, I was walking down the hall to find the bathroom--"

"Did you get lost?" I interrupted again, eagerly.

"No, of course not." Amy said, looking at me quizzically.

"Told you so." Mina muttered under her breath.

Amy ignored us. "So I'm walking down the hall--"

"You already told us that." I pointed out.

"Do you want to hear me or not?" She asked, exasperated.

"Serena, shut up." Mina said firmly. "Yes, Amy, we do want to hear you. Now, go on."

"So I see this guy, pretty young, not a nurse, so probably a graduate student getting his hospital hours."

"Was he cute?" Mina, this time, interrupted.

Amy blushed again. "Well, yeah, I guess so."

"You guess so?" Mina asked incredulously.

"All right, all right!" Amy wailed. "He makes me so horny I want to dance the horizontal polka."

The orange juice I had been attempting to drink came back out of my nose in a startled spurt and I began to laugh uncontrollably. The horizontal polka? Tears began to stream from my eyes. Mina was experiencing a similar reaction. Amy blushed so deeply it tinted her hair red, but she ignored us.

"So I sort of walked up to him, and asked him where the bathroom was."

"Hey, I thought you said that you didn't get lost!" I spluttered, outraged.

Amy rolled her eyes. "I didn't. I know where the bathroom is, I just wanted to talk to him."

"Oh." I said sheepishly. Subterfuge from Amy? Over a guy? This was getting interesting.

"So he gave me this great smile, and…and well, I sort of lost control of my legs for a moment and…"

"And…" Mina prompted, hanging on her every word.

"I sort of fell into him." She said in a quiet voice.

"You what!" Mina and I exclaimed simultaneously.

"Anyway," Amy continued. "I realized that he had an extremely muscular chest and arms, because he sort of held me against him for a moment, so I could steady myself…"

"So you could 'steady yourself'?" Mina asked incredulously. "You've got to be kidding me! This is incredible!"

"Muscular chest and arms? Amy, I never suspected that beneath your intellectual exterior lurks a romance novelist!" If it was possible to get any redder, Amy did, making it harder for me to contain my barely suppressed laughter.

"All right!" Amy said imperiously. "Any more interruptions and I don't finish my story, you hear me?" Mina and I both shut up immediately. "Good. Now, let me finish. So eventually, he set me on my feet and asked if I was all right. And I apologized, and he smiled and told me that his name was Jonathan. Then he walked me to the bathroom, and on the way he asked me for my phone number. He said that I intrigued him…" That was it, I couldn't repress the words that were bubbling in my throat.

"Amy, that's incredible!" I exclaimed. "Did you actually give him your number?"

"Well…yeah. He was just so good-looking. I couldn't help it. And intelligent too…"

Mina just leaned back in her chair and gave a little half-smile. "This is love." She said knowingly.

I looked at her in exasperation. "Yeah, that's what you said about Charles and Diana."

"Everyone's allowed a mistake sometimes--"  
"And Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie, OJ Simpson and Nicole--"

"I did not--"

"Ike and Tina Turner, Bruce Willis and what's her face…"

"Oh come on, Serena! I wasn't even alive when Ike and Tina Turner were together…"

"You saw them in a music video. You said, and I quote, that you thought they looked like the perfect couple."

"Aha! See, I did not say that it was love, I said that they looked good together. It's two completely different things--"

"But what about all the others?"

"Will you two stop that!" Amy interrupted loudly, sounding more like her usual self, although her face was still suspiciously pink. Mina and I both snapped our mouths shut simultaneously and looked a little dejected. It had been so long since I had genuinely enjoyed the quirks of my best friends so much. I suddenly felt close to tears. I had been so depressed lately that I hadn't even been able to enjoy my friends!.

"I love you guys!" I blubbered sentimentally, wiping at my eyes with an unused dinner napkin. Mina and Amy had, apparently, caught my case of sentimentality, because soon I was involved in a somewhat awkward, but genuinely enthusiastic three-way bear hug.

"We love you too!" They wailed, almost simultaneously. Then the absurdity of it all hit us, and we dissolved into helpless--if tearful--laughter.

------------------------

Finally, I could leave. I had been restless the entire day, so distracted that I even managed to eat some of the atrocious hospital food. At five o'clock this evening I was scheduled to leave the hospital and finally return to normal society. My room, by now, was covered in flowers (and not just white roses). Everyone from my Shakespeare class had signed a card for me. I had, at first, enjoyed the attention, but right now all I wanted to do was return to my normal life. No more soap-opera dramas, just regular, boring old school. For once in my life, the idea excited me. Besides, I hated hospitals, the whitewashed walls, the sterility, the dispassionate nurses all did their best to depress their patients. To be honest, I could not handle much more. I still felt kind of strange sometimes--weaker than I had been before, but Dr. Reynolds said that it would pass in time. I had a remarkable immune system that I prided myself on--I needed it to counteract the remarkable stupidity with which I usually conducted my life. Why couldn't I mange to be sensible for once, about anything? Well, I giggled to myself, it was probably all part of my charm. I hoped that someone would have the foresight to bring me a change of clothes. A hospital gown was not my idea of parting with style, and the clothes I had worn coming in were pink bunny pajamas. Finally, after I thought I would wail with impatience, the door opened, revealing--to my extreme surprise--Raye. I quickly glanced behind her to see if anyone else was there, but she was alone. I felt a sense of extreme trepidation make my heart rate speed up. I had longed to talk to her, but now that I had the opportunity, what could I say? How could we possibly bridge the gap between us?

"Hello, Serena." She said, somewhat sheepishly.

"Um…hi, Raye." I said, still staring at her in mild panic.

"Everyone else was busy," she said by way of explanation, "so they designated me to come and pick you up."

"Oh." It was all I could manage to say.

"I brought you some clothes." She said, holding them in front of her like a peace offering. I looked, delighted. She had managed to pick just the right outfit for the occasion: long black pants, a low-necked T-shirt and button-down jean shirt to go over it.

"That's fantastic, Raye!" I gushed, momentarily forgetting my awkwardness. I quickly jumped from the bed, perhaps too quickly, because my legs wobbled and I fell against the bed. Raye rushed to me, her hand supporting me around my back.

"Are you all right?" She asked, worried.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I assured her. "I think it's just that I haven't walked for a week. My legs feel a little strange." She held me while I tried to stand up again, knees knocking ominously. The first couple tries were disastrous, largely because I continually fell against her or some other solid object.

"This isn't so different from normal, Serena." Raye joked tentatively as we walked around the room, "You've never been particularly ambulatory." I was tempted to ask what that meant, but refrained. It didn't matter, I got the point.

"We'll see about that!" I said, mock-indignantly, secretly happy to finally be bantering with Raye again. Removing myself from her support, I took a tentative step forward. Feeling a little surer of myself, I kept walking. I would have made it too, if I had just seen the television cord in the middle of the floor. As I crashed, even I had to admit that it didn't feel very different from normal.

"Yeah, right." Raye said, laughing. I glared at her, but my expression was so ludicrous that I began to laugh as well. There was something of beauty in our laughter, an ease of friendship between us that I had not expected. Beauty, however, never seemed to last for me. It came and went in stages, surprising me unexpectedly, and then leaving when I most needed it. Even as we laughed together I said a silent prayer: that this time, the beauty would last.


	10. Never Too Late 9

BIG DISCLAIMER:

I am reposting my Sailor Moon fanfic _Fire_ at because the old site where I first posted it, A Sailor Moon Romance, has died. I wrote this over eight years ago, and while it will always hold a special place in my heart (the first novel I ever attempted), I sincerely hope that my writing has improved since then. On the other hand, at the time a lot of people wrote to me how much they liked it, and it seemed a shame that those people wouldn't be able to find it online anymore once ASMR died. HOWEVER, please think of this fic along the lines of a historical document. Especially if you found this because you like my Veronica Mars fiction...well, this is a little less sophisticated. On the other hand, it's fun, so what the hell :)

ALSO...you might be interested to know that I have published an actual novel, in actual stores: Racing the Dark by Alaya Dawn Johnson (that's me, of course). If you like this, PLEASE consider buying it or at least telling your librarian to get a copy. A lot of novels get published each year, and it's so easy for them to get lost in the deluge. I'm afraid that's what's happening to my book, so if you like any of my stuff I hope you'll think about it. If you want to know more (and read the first three chapters), you can go to my website. It's my full name, "Alaya Dawn Johnson" without any spaces, dot com.

**[The final chapter. The thrilling resolution. How it all works out in the end, however improbably. I hope you've enjoyed this. And in my re-reading of this story, I find it amusing how my understanding of college life was apparently based on a few YA novels and movies. Hey, try to forgive. I was seventeen. Also, can I implore you again to check out my novel? There's links on my profile page. Seriously. Go to Amazon. Think about it. Okay, you can read the story now ;)**

Chapter Nine: Never Too Late

I long for him most  
During these long moonless nights.  
I lie awake, hot,  
The growing fires of passion  
Bursting, blazing in my heart

Ono No Komachi

March. Finally the temperature had warmed consistently above freezing, and comparatively, the fifty degree night felt positively balmy. It was well past midnight on Friday night--well, Saturday morning, I suppose--and Raye had just fallen asleep. We had been talking long into the night of love and dreams and longing, the types of things girls speak of when they know there is something more than what they have, and are young enough to think they will achieve it. Raye had met somebody who easily held her attention more that Darien ever had. I saw it, but wondered if Raye did, and did not mention it to her. Even without Mina's "sixth sense" for these sorts of things, I knew that they were in love with each other. It was only a matter of time before they admitted it. His name was Thomas, and the very mention of it would send her into fits of sighing that seemed more appropriate to Mina than Raye. But then, we had all been full of surprises the past few months. I lay awake after Raye slept, thinking about my friends, staring at the disturbingly black night--a night without moonlight to guide my thoughts as it so often had during my time at Harvard. I shuddered and pulled the covers closer around my neck. Perhaps fifty degrees was not so balmy as I had thought. By now Amy and Jonathan had an established relationship. When it came to people she knew, Mina was an infallible guide. Lita had not, as yet, paired up with anyone, although she sometimes waxed eloquent about a certain friend of hers named Ken, who we never saw, but could describe to you in detail anyway. Her "old boyfriend" had become something of a running joke between us, but judging from Lita's love struck expression, she could not be making him up. Mina was an odd combination of matchmaker and seductress. She was determined for everyone else to find true love, but when it came to her, she was content to date every good-looking boy on campus. She often exhausted herself running between dates, trying to keep the other unaware of the first. It was funny, but sometimes I wondered if Mina was--for all her fascination with it--afraid of love. It made a bizarre sort of sense that the self-dubbed 'Love Goddess' would be unable to deal with love within herself. I worried about her, but I also knew that someone would fall in love with Mina with such insistence that she would not be able to ignore it anymore, or deny it.

While I did think about my friends, I thought mostly of Darien. It was inevitable that Darien should occupy my thoughts at all times and in all places, I thought, sighing. Even halfway across the world I could not seem to escape his influence over me. Even now, every time I went to the ice cream parlor I half expected to see him way I had that very first day: a self-satisfied mocking smile, oldies music blaring, hair casually tousled in a way that made him that much more gorgeous. I turned over in my bed, barely suppressing a groan. Not as though, I reminded myself, it would wake Raye. It stunned me how much I longed for him. It took me unawares on nights like this, how I would physically ache for want of him next to me. He had been near me for such a short time, I knew, and yet I felt that those few weeks had been more perfect than forever. And he loved me, at least I had that to sustain me. This waiting was somehow different than it had been before he left. Then, it had been like a slow, tortuous death, each new day dragging more of my happiness away from me. Now I felt secure--somewhat, at least. Darien had told me not to let him hurt me again, and I was trying. But that did not make my longing any less poignant, it did not stop me from staying up late on Saturday morning, full of sighs and half-uttered words. I thought of the first time he had kissed me, how my breathing had stopped and the entire world had seemed to shut down around me. I thought of the way he had carried me in from the snow, denying his feelings but unable to hide them. I thought of all this and felt my breath catch in my throat. I could deny him during the day, or at least try to. I could go to classes and play around with my friends and not act as though I longed for him every second. But at night, I could not hide it. I would open my window and stare at the sky, wishing that he return.

I wrote him letters, but could not bring myself to send them. I kept them together--reams of them--in my bottom desk drawer, hidden away from the world. I guess I was afraid of giving even the smallest part of myself away again. I was still afraid that he would hurt me, and even though I knew that he said he loved me, things might have changed in Japan. After all, he was in the country of his birth, probably talking to prettier, more intelligent girls…I roughly wiped the tears from my eyes. This was getting me nowhere. The five of us were planning on going to the museum tomorrow, and I had to get some sleep. Besides, I had definitely had enough of this emotional orgy for one night. With a small self-deprecating smile I closed my eyes, and dreamed of lands across the sea.

------------------------

"I don't know." Lita said dubiously, tilting her head to the side. "It just looks like a bunch of squiggles to me."

"Lita!" Raye exclaimed, exasperated. "Don't you see the subtle rhythm of the colors? Do you see how the greens and browns mix to give the perfect impression of fall leaves?"

"You sound like a tour guide, Raye." I said, squinting. "It looks like one of those magic eye things."

"I give up!" Raye shouted, throwing her hands in the air. "You uncultured bohemians just can't appreciate Jackson Pollock."

Mina giggled. "Well, we uncultured bohemians need some nourishment before we can brave more nude women with breasts on their heads." Raye just glared at her.

"You guys!" Amy said ominously. "Will you stop shouting? I think that Mina has a good idea, we ought to go eat. Maybe it will calm us down." The last was muttered under her breath.

"Oh, all right. But afterwards we have to go to the sculpture garden!" Raye said. We all groaned.

"Come on, Raye, do we have to?" I wined. "It's really cold out there!"

"Cold? It's fifty degrees."

"Will you two shut up and come on?" Lita said from the doorway. Realizing that I was, in fact, quite in need of a brownie or two, I caught up with them and we walked together to the cafeteria.

------------------------

"One week to go until spring break." Lita said, lounging in her chair.

Mina and I let of simultaneous dejected sighs. I had not been looking forward much to spring break.

"Geez, what's wrong you two?" Raye asked.

"I really don't want to go home. Why in the name of God did my dad have to win the primaries? Why does my life just have to suck like this? He is going to be unbearable. I just can't take him for two weeks, you guys. It's inhuman!" My voice had risen precariously into a wail and my friends winced--whether in sympathy for my predicament or their eardrums, I couldn't tell.

"And I," Mina began dramatically, hogging the spotlight as usual, "Cannot stay here for spring break. I think that George knows about Toby and they're both getting suspicious and I'm going crazy trying to keep them both happy, but I just don't want to give up either one! O!" The 'O' sounded like one of those Victorian exclamations made so popular by Dickens, "It's so hard being beautiful!" Something suspiciously looking like sweatdrops appeared over our heads.

"Yeah right, Mina." Lita muttered to herself. "But still," She said in a thoughtful voice. "There's nothing particularly exciting for me to do at home. I wouldn't mind doing something new over spring break."

"That's true, you know." Raye agreed. "It's not like my grandfather needs me much at the temple, not since he got all that help. I mean, as much as I like going home, it would be fun to try something else."

I peered a little outside of my cloud of misery. "You mean, you guys would be willing to do something over spring break, with us?"

"Somewhere very far away?" Mina asked eagerly, losing some of her dramatic air.

"Hey, why not?" Lita shrugged. "It'd be fun."

"Yeah!" I shouted, getting into the spirit of things. I wouldn't have to face my dad after all! "Well, Amy," I said, and we all turned to look at her expectantly. "What about it?" Amy had sunk so low in her seat that her head barely came above the rim of the table.

"Um…" She began, "I don't know?"

"Come on, Amy," Mina coaxed, using her most charming smile, "What possible reason do you have not to go? Didn't you already tell us your mom was away at some conference in Europe?"

"Well, yeah…"

"And didn't you say you were getting sick of the same routine?" This time it was Raye.

"Well, I suppose so…"

"And wouldn't it just be awesome to go somewhere with us this break?" Lita asked.

"Sure it would, but…"  
"So what's the problem?" I finished triumphantly.

"I want to stay with Jonathan!" She wailed.

"Geez, Amy," Raye muttered, "You almost sounded like Serena for a second there." I would have insulted her back, except there were obviously more important matters to attend to.

"Amy," Mina said in a dangerously low voice. "Are you telling me that your boyfriend," she spat the word out, "is more important than your very best friends?"

"No…" Amy said sheepishly.

"Would you really abandon us for him?" I asked, cornering her.

"Oh, all right, all right!" Amy agreed, looking dejected and relieved at the same time. "You guys are tough customers." She said with a smile.

"Got to be." Raye said, looking satisfied. "So, now that we've agreed we're going somewhere, where do you guys want to go?"

"The beach--anyplace warm."

"I've always wanted to see the grand canyon..."

"What about Niagra Falls?"

"Las Vegas!"

"New York!"

"New Jersey!"

"New Jersey?"

"Sorry, got carried away with the moment."

"Wait, I know what we should do!" I shouted, getting a sudden epiphany.

"What?" They asked, looking at me.

"We should have a…" I paused, dragging out the moment.

"Well?"

"A road trip!" I finished triumphantly.

They fell silent, looking at me with dumbfounded expressions. "You know, Serena." Raye said finally. "That's a great idea."

I leaned back in the chair. "Of course." I said, a grin practically splitting my face.

"Huh." Amy said, still a little skeptical. "If you don't kill each other first."

"Oh, ye of little faith." I said offhandedly. Yes, perhaps this time, spring break would be fun after all.

------------------------

"Listen, Raye, I'm sure we've missed the exit! Didn't you see that sign back there?"

"Serena, I know what I'm doing. Besides, I wouldn't trust you to lead me to a bathroom, let alone Niagara Falls."

"Why doesn't anyone seem to think I can find a bathroom?" I muttered angrily to myself, looking at the map again. It was true though, these things were way too confusing. Amy had drawn the route of our trip in red magic marker just before we left, but the mess of lines and labels just did not seem to correspond to the long stretches of highways and confusing system of exits. I wasn't about to tell Raye that, however. She would just make fun of me. Instead, I turned around to the back seat--we were using Mina's van with express threats of what would happen if it received so much as a scratch. I saw that Amy and Lita were asleep, a little line of drool hanging out of their mouths.

"Well, didn't you see the sign, Mina?" I asked, since Mina was the only one in any state to have noticed it, or so I thought.

"Huh?" She said blankly, looking at me. "Wasn't that guy at the rest stop just dreamy?" She sighed. I groaned and turned back around in the seat.

" 'Just dreamy?' Mina, have you been inhaling gas fumes?"

"Ha ha, very funny." Mina said, sticking her tongue out at me. She returned to her pastime of looking into the windows of the passing cars, and realizing I had no help in that department, I left her to it.

"Um…Raye, I may be wrong, but can't we at least ask for directions?" I asked it in my most contrite voice, hoping that subservience might have a chance of changing her opinion.

"Me, ask for directions? Come on, Serena, I, for one, have a sense of direction. I know where we're going." Was that uncertainty I heard at the end of her voice? I didn't care--she had finally made me lose my temper.

"Raye!" I shouted. "I'm getting tired of this! So, maybe I have a bad sense of direction, but you passed the exit and you have to either be blind or a block-headed fool not to notice it!"

"You guys…" Amy groaned, rubbing her head and wiping the drool from her cheek. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you what's going on!" My voice kept rising in pitch. "Raye passed the exit, we're driving to God-knows-where and she refuses to ask for directions!"

"I don't need to ask for directions!" Raye shrieked. "I know perfectly well where I am going, and I don't need a directionally challenged Serena telling me where to go!"

"Oh God," Lita mumbled, burying her head in her hands, "Here we go again."

"Why, you, pig-headed, stupid…" I spluttered, unable to finish my sentence.

"Raye! Stop the car!" Mina yelled, cutting through our argument like it wasn't there. Raye swerved dangerously, startled, and then switched on her blinker to get off at the next rest stop.

"Don't do that Mina!" She said, trying to get her breathing under control. "What is it?" Just as soon as she said it, however, there was no longer any need to ask. In front of us was a huge billboard, decked out in trashy blue pastels and gaudy 3-D art. It read:

Visit the Legendary Niagara Falls!

"Told you so." Raye said complacently.

And in parentheses at the bottom: (Turn around! You just missed it!)

"Read the sign before you speak, buddy!" I shouted in triumph.

"Oh, all right." She muttered, sufficiently humbled.

"Told you I could find the bathroom."

"What?" Lita asked, confused, but Mina was already laughing.

"Yeah," She said in between gasps, "What else is one of the greatest North American natural wonders but a supersized toilet?"

------------------------

I called my father that night. I was supposed to be meeting him at the airport, and I had to tell him why I was standing him up. I timed it perfectly--before he grew worried enough to call in the authorities and after he was given sufficient time to be embarrassed in front of the camera crews. I dialed his cell phone number with assurance, practically relishing the prospect of pulling one over on him.

"Hello?" It was his voice, irritated. I almost smiled.

"Hi, Dad." I said in my most perky tone.

"Serena?" He shouted, I winced and held the phone away from my ear. Evidently, I had been right about the reporters, because he quickly got himself under control. "Where are you?" I could practically hear the curse words between his teeth. This was turning out better than I had thought.

"Well, dad, I've been meaning to tell you: I'm, right now, in a hotel outside of Niagara. My friends and I decided to go on a road trip--a last minute sort of thing, you know." My voice was dripping with sarcasm. "So sorry to have disappointed you and the reporters, but I suppose that you'll have to save your "family moment" photo until, say, thanksgiving."

"Serena," he spluttered, "You can't possibly do this…"

"Oh yes I can, dad." I said, and for a moment felt a mild inkling of compassion for him. "Try to understand, okay? I needed to get away."

"I definitely do not understand, young lady! Now, I want you to get to the nearest airport and come back here--" So much for compassion.

"No, dad." I said firmly. "Not this time. This time, I'm choosing my own destiny." I hung up the phone.

"So," I said to the others, who were looking at me warily. "What do you say that we celebrate?" I pulled out a bottle of Martinelli's that we had brought with us for the trip. Mina grabbed some paper cups and I poured everyone a glass.

"To good-looking men!" Mina said, raising her cup. We all rolled our eyes and giggled a little at this.

Lita was next. "To friendship," she said after a while. "Let us never forget this."

Amy was surer of herself. "To success." She said quietly.

Raye glanced at me quickly and then looked away, as though burned. "To trust, that we never betray each other." She ignored me so studiously that I knew she expected some sort of reaction. I put my hand on her arm, gently and smiled a little. I supposed that things would never be totally all right between us, but I had forgiven her, in my own way, a long time ago.

"To love," I said, raising my glass higher and thinking of Darien, "That it never dies." As we sat there, on the floor of a hotel room, toasting each other with sparkling apple cider in paper cups, I realized something that took my breath away. In this small group of friends, I had found people who truly understood me. In different ways, we had given each other the most intimate parts of ourselves. We were a team, no doubt about it. We had formed, in a relatively short amount of time, ties that could survive the most incredible strain. I loved them all, of course. Yet, something was missing. I knew it, if not consciously, in the back of my mind, the part unoccupied with the present.

Yes, even among the best friends I had ever had, I longed for Darien.

------------------------

I walked slowly through the campus, towards Peabody Hall, feeling a glow of happiness, even as my thoughts turned down a darker path. It was April 15th, my birthday, and my friends had surprised me with a party. I smiled, remembering my shock as I entered the lounge of Lita's dorm hall only to find practically half the freshman class at Harvard there to greet me. I was happy, but it didn't stop me from glancing around the room furtively, hoping against reason that Darien was there. It hurt more than I had any right to feel, that he hadn't done anything for my birthday. After all, he had wanted me to write him letters, and I still had a drawer full of them in my room that I couldn't bear to send. What made me think that he would give me a gift if I couldn't manage even the most simple of gestures? My mood turned blacker and even the pleasant spring air did not cheer me up. It was hard living like this, with a permanent hole somewhere in my stomach that I had to hide from my friends and everyone else who loved me. I had dragged them through the mud of my problems enough already, they did not need to be burdened with this. Even so, sometimes Darien's absence hurt me so much I could barely breathe. Sometimes, only the knowledge that he would come back stopped me from plummeting into inconsolable despair. And still I could not send him the letters. It was as if I was somehow afraid of giving him even a little part of myself again, lest he betray it. And I still, ironically, wanted to be with him constantly. I didn't see, rationally, how I was ever supposed to be happy when I was prey of such contradictory desires. I shook my head forcefully, as if to clear my mind of such thoughts, and pulled the bag of gifts closer to my chest. My friends knew me too well, I thought ruefully. It seemed they had made a list of all the things I had said I wanted in passing and gave them to me in one go. I was particularly impressed with a huge book of National Geographic pictures that I had wanted for what seemed like forever, but had never been able to quite afford. I smiled again, momentarily forgetting Darien. It wasn't as if he was my only reason for living, after all, even though sometimes--all too often--it felt that way. Of all improbable nights, Raye had chosen this one to finally hook up with Thomas, and were probably well on their way to his dorm room right about now. I sighed again, gustily, as I reached Peabody and stepped inside. Thinking about Raye and her guy made thoughts of Darien that much more poignant. I had come so close to making love, and I hadn't, but now Raye…I stopped the thought when I realized I was getting angry. After all, I should be happy for my friend, not so jealous I'm seeing green. Yeah right, Serena, I thought with a grimace, you're not jealous at all. I needed, I decided, to go to sleep right now. It had been a wonderful birthday, as they go, but I was only too well aware of what had been missing. I trudged up the stairs in a desultory fashion and, almost robot-like, reached my door. In fact, I was paying so little attention that I tripped over a box lying in my path. I rubbed my shins angrily as I leaned over to inspect the offending package. It was rectangular and about two inches below my knees. It was strange that it was lying here, since packages were almost never delivered to the dorm rooms. Suddenly, my eyes fell over the label and postage stamps, and I could feel my heart hammering painfully in my chest. My breathing grew short and for a second I thought that I was going to faint. The stamps were Japanese. I had memorized the return address, staring at Darien's letter so many times. It seemed too good to be true, and yet here it was, blocking the entrance to my room. He had remembered my birthday! I let out a shriek of joy, damning all who might be asleep, and danced a little in the hallway. I had never expected this, not once. I thought that he had given up on me. Unable to contain my curiosity and excitement, I opened the door and sprawled into the room, dragging the package in after me. After several interminable moments I found the scissors and began to gleefully tear into the tape. Finally I uncovered miles and miles of bubble wrap which I removed with growing impatience and anticipation. What had he sent me? A dozen images entered my head and I discarded them as too sentimental, too cliched, or too expensive. I knew that Darien would have thought about this for a very long time, striving to find the perfect gift for me. Finally, after the bubble wrap and newspaper was gone, I stared in amazement at what remained.

When I was little, my mom would take me to the dollhouse and miniature museum. It was her hidden passion, and she studied them with insatiable fascination. Around Christmas was my favorite time of year to visit, because they had dozens of little villages, exquisitely detailed with people no bigger than your thumb and houses no larger than a hand. It seemed like something out of a fairy tale or novel. As I had stared at them, I imagined that they could come to life and I could enter their world and go on a magnificent adventure. It had been years since I visited he place, but I still remembered. Now, there was no way that Darien could have known that about me. I had never told him, largely because I barely thought of it myself. And yet, Darien always managed to surprise me like that, by knowing almost subconsciously my innermost desires. He had given me a miniature, like those I had admired so long ago, but subtly different. It was a tiny replica of a stage, no more than a foot tall and two feet wide. I recognized the scene immediately. The final monologue of Kate, is of course, one of the most controversial aspects of Shakespearean literature. Before I met Darien I had believed it was a sexist speech that admitted the legitimacy of male domination. He had chosen an odd moment to capture, I realized. They were in the banquet hall, with the other guests staring at Kate with expressions of stunned disbelief. In behind her, three women were poking their heads out from behind some curtain, looking equally stunned. In the middle of the stage stood Kate, leaning over a seated Petruchio. He looked surprised, but with that detail that is so powerful in miniatures, he also looked struck dumb with love for the woman before him. Her finger was on his nose in a gesture that looked at once intimate and scolding. While her expression was self-important, she was obviously leaning in for a kiss. Then I saw the most exquisite detail of all: even as she leaned forward to kiss him, even after she had declared the will of a woman inconsequential, she winked at him. I noticed a piece of paper taped to the roof of the miniature, and opened it with shaking hands. It read: Better once than never, for never too late.

It was unsigned, but I knew who it was from, and what it meant. I was crying again, large tears of happiness and longing and hilarity all bound into one contradictory package.

"Thank you!" I said aloud, whether to Darien or some higher Fate, I don't know. Yet even as I lay there, ensconced in my own happiness, the bottom drawer of my desk remained closed, and even as I put the gift on my mantle, I did not think to open it.

------------------------

I lay on the grass beneath my favorite tree--a weeping willow who obviously was as happy as I that the weather was finally warming up. The seventy-degree day felt absolutely heavenly, and I wriggled my bare toes in the grass just for the feel of it. I felt positively free from the world and all of its problems. Nothing could harm me, as I lay there with my eyes closed, feeling the light warm across them. I let out a contented sigh, just barely remembering not to open my legs so wide as to let everyone see up my sundress. Around me I heard the noises of people walking from class to class, some leisurely strolling, talking to friends along the way, and others sprinting headlong into this building and that, obviously late for some appointment. I smiled and tried to imagine what they were late for, what was so important to them. I loved doing this, lying where no one took notice of me and making up stories. I could never get to know all of these people, but on days like this, my imagination made up for the lack. In every person's life there was a story, and mine was no exception. I momentarily forgot the people around me and contemplated my story, which on a day like today seemed distant and less painful than it had been a mere week ago, on my birthday. I had spent countless hours staring at the miniature, recognizing so many details each time I looked at it. The others had been shocked, of course, but nearly as impressed as I had been. I had no classes today, by some beautiful trick of fate, and could not think of anything more enjoyable than lying outside, soaking up vitamin D. Well, that was not precisely true, but seeing as how the ideal pastime was halfway across the ocean, this was as good as it got. Gradually, I became aware of a group of people standing not to far from the weeping willow, discussing something in hushed voices. At first I only listened with mild interest, but when I heard Darien's name I started violently. I carefully opened my eyes and peered behind the tree trunk. They hadn't seen me, apparently. The group consisted of two girls and a guy, all of whom I recognized by sight, if not name. The guy was a classmate of Darien's, and a close friend. The girls were just two members of the ever-popular Darien Chiba fan club.

"So, he's really coming back?" Girl number one asked, batting her eyelashes at the guy, who was, while not as handsome as Darien, certainly pretty cute.

"Yeah, he has to deal with the funeral and all that stuff. He was the only living relative." The guy answered, knowledgeably, visibly preening. I felt something break in the middle of my stomach, then. It felt like horror, but with an added dimension of grief and disbelief. I was all too afraid I knew what had happened, but too horrified by the prospect to really believe it.

"Will he be going back to Japan?" That was girl number two.

"Probably not. By the time he finishes here, his exchange would have ended anyway."

"Wow," Girl number one said, originally. "I hope he's holding up okay. Do you think there is anything we can do for him?"

"I don't think so. You know how much of a loner Darien is. He'll probably appreciate it more if we leave him alone."

"I guess you're right. It's just that I remember how it was when my grandfather died…" Her voice was lost in the rush of blood to my ears, and then to distance as the group wandered off to another spot. I felt the tears threatening at the edges of my eyes, but pushed them back ruthlessly. Oh God, Darien, I thought helplessly, not knowing what to do. Was it true? Had his grandfather actually died? I stood up hastily, feeling ready to vomit but desperate to find out the truth first. Perhaps the girl hadn't meant that literally, I thought desperately, grabbing my sandals. Perhaps some long lost aunt of his died, someone he didn't know very well. The thought was not very reassuring. I was pretty sure that Darien's grandfather was his only living relative. I sprinted almost instinctively to Mina's dorm, but she wasn't there. I racked my brains frantically, trying to figure out where my friends could be. Raye and Amy had a class now, but Lita wasn't in her dorm either. Barely thinking about it I raced down the street, around the corner, my subconscious taking the most logical path: to the ice cream parlor. Even if Mina and Lita weren't there, someone ought to know what had happened. I burst through the door, bells jingling, and everyone inside turned to stare at me curiously. I was too scared to even be embarrassed. Luckily, my hunch had been right, and Mina and Lita were sitting together at a table in the corner. They looked up at me, shocked, and I made my way clumsily over to them, tripping over people and chairs in the process. I sat down and let out a deep breath.

"What happened?" I begged. From their expressions, they already knew.

"Well…" Mina began, but she was interrupted by a girl standing by the counter.

"Hey, Serena!" She called to me. "Have you talked to Darien lately?" I shook my head lamely, and turned back to stare at Lita, even more panicked.

"You've got to tell me. I can't stand this anymore." I said in a low whisper.

Lita took a deep breath. "Darien's grandfather died two days ago. Darien's coming back to deal with the funeral arrangements and the will. That's all I know." Trust Lita to get to the point, I thought even as her words confirmed my worst fears. My hands covered my mouth in horror, and the blood rushing past my ears sounded less and less like water and more like fire.

"Oh, Darien." I whispered, aching for him. I knew how he must feel, and I was riddled with guilt at my part in it. If only I had not been such a coward, and sent the letters. Maybe then he might have had someone to share his pain with. Now, though, he must feel utterly alone. I could imagine him taking the plane ride back to the states, wanting to cry but not allowing it. I could imagine the raw pain behind his mask, pain no one but I could see. He did not know I still loved him. Some of the tears I had held back splashed on the table, but I made no move to wipe my eyes.

"Serena?" It was Mina, and I realized that she had been calling my name for a while.

"Yes?"

"Don't worry. It's okay. He'll be okay, you'll see." I could only hope that she was right. There was nothing else I could do but sit here, and wait.

------------------------

The next week passed in a flurry of activity, and somehow still managed to drag on inexorably. It was exam study week, and in between ruthless drilling sessions with Amy and bouts of self-imposed study with myself, I worried about Darien. It was nothing new, thinking of Darien, but now I needed to know exactly what he was doing, and how he was feeling. I wanted to go find him and tell him that everything was okay, but I couldn't get in touch with him. Although I knew that it smacked of 'too little, too late' I lost all of my fear of reaching out to Darien. I knew, even without seeing him, how badly he was hurting. Sometimes I woke up in the middle of the night, feeling inconsolably hot, and knew that the bond between us had been thrumming with his grief. Yet, no matter what I tried, my efforts were met with failure. When I tried to call the farm, I discovered that the line had been cut off. I wrote letters and sent them first class, but they were all sent back, address unavailable. Finally, I made one last desperate bid to find him, calling every hotel and motel in a thirty-mile radius of the farm, asking for Darien Chiba. I did not find him. I knew that he was not trying to avoid me, he just didn't know that I was looking. The fact compounded my guilt because I knew that if I had simply written him, as he had asked me, I would not be impotent right now, useless in the face of his grief. So I worried, and studied and tried to sleep and fended off inquisitive questions about Darien. Even though we had had practically the most notorious breakup in the whole college, let alone the freshman class, everyone seemed to think that I would know something about Darien. I only wished it were true. The constant reminders of my ignorance did nothing to help my mood. By the time exam week rolled around, I was ready to climb to the roof of the highest building in Cambridge and scream my frustration. It was only with considerable restraint on my part that I didn't. I took my exams stoically, ruthlessly blocking out thoughts of Darien. I thought I did rather well, all things considered, but I did not care. All I wanted was for the school year to be over so that I could go home, take a car, and drive out to rural Maryland myself to find him. Then exam-week ended, and the school entered a flurry of preparations for graduation and the imminent departure of its students. I packed my bags with an obscene haste, noted by Raye but not commented upon. She knew what drove me, nowadays, and since her relationship with Thomas had blossomed, she understood it a lot more. I had even agreed to meet my dad at the airport, no tricks, just to get home sooner. I counted the days before graduation, because the day after I would go home. My father, unfortunately, had a debate and that was the earliest he could come. Even as I chafed with impatience, though, I knew I would miss this place. As improbable as Harvard had been, it seemed like the perfect place for me. I would miss it over the summer, especially with my political father hot on the campaign trial. I was certainly a woman of contradictions. I couldn't wait to go, but dreaded the thought of leaving. The night before graduation, the five of us sat in my dorm room, having one final big sleepover. We were all fairly maudlin and teary-eyed during the entire night, no one looking forward to spending an entire three months away from each other.

"You'll write, won't you?" Mina asked, shivering slightly in the wet bra we had dared her to wear for an hour.

"And call?" Lita added, uncharacteristically snuffling.

"Email is better, you know." Amy said pragmatically

"Are you kidding?" Raye asked. "Of course we will!"

"Yeah," I agreed, "You know, we might do something together--"

"Oh no! No more road trips!" Amy wailed and we all started laughing.

"Oh all right," I said, smiling ruefully, "Maybe no more road trips. Well, if my dad gets elected, the upside will be that we all can go wreak havoc at Camp David."

"That's a great idea!" Lita said, rubbing her hands together. "I've always wanted to try out my martial arts skills on those secret service guys."

We continued like that long into the night, reminiscing about the year, speculating about what was to come. By the end of the night we had tentative plans to spend a week in the mountains of West Virginia. I could privately already imagine the enjoyable disaster that seemed to follow us five wherever we went. When I slept, my head pillowed on Lita's stomach and Mina's head on my thighs, I dreamed of fire, in all its exquisite glory.

------------------------

I walked around the strangely deserted campus, feeling lost and alone. Everyone, even Mina, had left already, and I was left with the other stragglers, picking up the last of their belongings to scurry back home. For the hundredth time that night I thought of Darien, and where his home was, now that he lost his grandfather. I realized suddenly that I was wearing the same sundress that I had worn the day we first met. I smiled at the memory, knowing the intimately why I had kept it these two years. It seemed strange, though, that I would choose this day to wear it. I wondered if it was some sort of sign, that today I would see him. I dismissed the thought abruptly. I knew perfectly well where Darien was, and it certainly wasn't here. I sighed and walked to an open space in the middle of a quadrangle, to admire the sunset. It streaked the wispy clouds purple and red, and hung low in the sky, a burning orb of light. Snaky tendrils of crimson fire seemed to reach for me, and fill me with an inexplicable anticipation. For as long as I could remember, I had had premonitions of major events in my life. Every time before, however, they had come in the form of a rushing wave, rippling through my stomach and leaving me slightly nauseous. For the first time, I felt a different sensation, somehow more powerful and telling. As I stared at that sunset, alone on the grass, sundress and pigtails blowing behind me in the wind, I was overcome with an incredible fiery power. For a moment time stopped and I felt as if I had entered the sun, known its power and its secret. For a split-second, I became one with fire.

And then the sun gave up the battle, sunk below the horizon, and gave up to the moon. I slumped to the ground, unable to believe what had just happened. I had always had an overactive imagination, but this? I shook my head, but the sensation that something incredible had just happened--was going to happen--to me would not leave. As the last of the light left the sky, I stood up, my eyes gradually getting used to the dark. For a moment, I considered going back to the dorm and finishing packing my stuff, but decided against it. I still felt like wandering around. Going back to the dorm seemed so final, like an admonition that despite all of my premonitions, nothing would happen to me today. So, instead, I stood up and began walking, not paying the least attention to where I was heading. I figured that random wandering was the best method of letting this mysterious event occur. Knowing my subconscious, it would probably lead me to the right place whether I wanted to go there or not. So I walked, part of me worried, part of my disbelieving, and part of me incredibly happy. I was filled with the power of that sunset, and nothing could harm me. After perhaps an hour I stopped and looked around. I was not the least surprised to discover myself in front of Darien's old dorm hall. How many times had I walked there, desperate for even the smallest reminder of his presence? I sighed in annoyance. I thought that something was going to happen to me--I had dared believe the premonition, and of course I had been disappointed. Why was I standing here, staring at the door like he would walk through it at any moment, smiling broadly at me? And why, even as I stood there berating myself, could I not shake the sense that I was exactly where I was supposed to be? I stomped my foot with impatience, trying to ignore the hurt ball of disappointment that had curled itself in a corner of my emotions. God, all I wanted was to be with him. Why could it never work out properly? Why did something always have to come between us? And why, when he needed me most, could I not reach him? It was enough to make me want to lie down where I was standing and cry in frustration. I almost did, but something, glinting in the corner of my eye stopped me. My heart began to pound furiously, and shaking with several emotions I was hard put to name, I took a few tentative steps around the corner. This can't be happening, the rational side of my mind reasoned. He simply can't be here just because you stared at a sunset and thought you were fire. Things like that don't happen in real life. But that was the rational side of my mind, and I was practiced in the art of ignoring it. Instead, I wrapped my arms tightly around my now-shivering body and peered anxiously in the general direction of Darien's window.

On the windowsill stood a candle, wavering valiantly against the encroaching darkness, but losing the fight. Calling, perhaps, to the one person who could save him.

------------------------

I don't know how long I stood outside, staring at his window. I was drawn to the fire, and stunned almost to catatonia by the realization of my vision. After a time, however, I realized that I could not stand there forever. I had finally been given a chance at controlling my destiny, and this time I would not let it go. I walked slowly back around to the front of the building and entered. The halls were eerily deserted, the people who had remained having long retired to their beds. Without truly being aware of how I had gotten there, I stood in front of his door. At that moment the sense of unreality crashed around me and I suddenly felt like the normal Serena, about to do something that made her scared enough to faint. I froze in front of the door, not knowing what to do or how to go about it, only that after all this time, I had to do something. I could not muster the will to walk away from the door, or to knock. I could only stand there in an agony of indecision, contradictory impulses screaming at me to obey them. I wanted to be with Darien, I had known that for a very long time. I was just so afraid that he would hurt me again. I had built this wall of dubious protection around myself and I knew that if I broke it down, it would have to be for someone I trusted utterly. Even though I loved him, I still wondered if I could trust him. And yet, beyond me, in that room, lay a man I knew was being eaten from the inside with grief. All my life, even at my most inconsolable, I had never been truly alone. I had always had friends who loved me, and cared what happened to me. Darien, on the other hand, had always been alone. His grandfather was the first person who had eased that ache within him, and now he was gone. I had rejected him with my failure to send the letters. It came down to what was worth more. Did I care about my little bubble of protection so much that I was unwilling to do the one thing I possibly could to help the only person I had ever loved so deeply? Was I so selfish? No, I decided abruptly. This time I would open myself up, and give myself to him completely. Even if he destroyed me forever, I could not let him deal with this alone. Wiping the tears off my face, I opened the door and walked inside. The door closed behind me with finality.

------------------------

I think I gasped when I saw him lying there, but I can't be sure. He was curled in a fetal-like position on his bed, his back toward the door. All the worrying and aching I had done before this moment had not prepared me for this sight. I had never seen Darien so vulnerable, so eaten away by grief. All I wanted to do was rush to him and hold him. It felt like someone had stabbed me in the stomach, knowing and seeing his pain. I did not move, though. One odd moment after I shut the door, he uncoiled and sat up, staring at me with the most incredible disbelief. His shirt was open, his black hair tousled, and his eyes red and puffy from crying. His face looked haggard and drained.

"Serena?" He asked finally, his voice rough and low. I did not know what to make of the comment. I needed some acceptance of my presence, some acknowledgement that he did indeed want me here, but all I received was stunned disbelief.

I stepped closer, shaking with the effort not to run to him. I had not realized how much I missed him until that moment. Even in this drained state, he looked like an Adonis. I did not know what to say to him, beyond everything I had ever felt and would feel for this man I loved.

"Darien…" I said helplessly, and gulped audibly.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, turning abruptly away from me and staring at the candle, fire dancing in his eyes.

"I…" I could not seem to say anything. His presence filled my vision, my thoughts, leaving no room for anything else. I could put my emotions in words. I didn't know how to let him know what I wanted--no, needed--to give.

He didn't give me a chance though. "Do you want to torment me, Serena? You've made your decision. Just let me try to live my life without you." His words ripped across the surface of my emotions, laying me raw before him. I began to cry, in large gulping sobs, and every effort to stop them only made me cry even harder.

"Darien," I tried again, taking a deep breath, shoving my meaning past the tears. "I didn't reject you." I could barely manage a whisper, but he heard me. His blue eyes bored into me, angrily.

"Not one letter. Not even a postcard. Nothing. Did it all get lost in the mail?" The last comment was delivered in a tone that was at once biting and hurt. Guilt drowned me, and I struggled hopelessly to remain at the surface. My words were gone. He had judged and hung me all in one breath, and I could not deny the sentence. His face softened as he watched me standing there, weeping inconsolably, unable to speak.

"I'm sorry." He said finally, shifting on the bed as though he wanted to go to me but could not. "I have no right to judge you."

"Of course you do." I said bitterly, having finally found my voice. "I wrote the letters, but was too much of a coward to send them."

He seemed about to say something, but stopped suddenly, and stared at me in that way of his that consistently turns my knees to jelly. "You wrote me letters?" He asked with an almost frightening intensity.

I nodded. "An entire drawer full of them. I even put stamps on some." My sobs had subsided into silent tears. He closed his eyes, the candlelight making eerie shadows on his face.

"God, Serena," he breathed, "Do you know how badly I've needed you?"

That was it. It was as if he were a witch and had finally released the spell that bound my feet to the floor. In a split second I was across the room and beside him, hugging him so tightly I thought I should never let go. We held on to each other like that for a while, embracing the other eagerly as my fire met his and flamed all the more brightly in answer. Finally, after all this time, and all this pain, I was next to him again. Gently, his hand traced my face as his eyes took my appearance in voraciously. He looked as if he would memorize me this way, so he could always remember this moment. I for one knew that it was permanently branded in my memory. Finally, his fingers traced my lips, shaking with desire or fear, I don't know.

Then he kissed me. Every kiss I shared with Darien had been a wildly different and memorable experience. This one, however, made every last one of them look like awkward eighth grade kisses over spin-the-bottle. The fire I had felt in that sunset crackled between us like a live emanation, swirling in and out of my body and his, fusing out souls into one solid entity. I forgot who I was, where I was, everything I had ever learned. In that one moment, all that mattered was Darien and that I loved him. I clung to that knowledge even as the sea of my emotions spun around me. Even as I desperately reached for more and more of him, I held to that thought as the only thing that would keep me sane. Perhaps it was. After a blissful eternity we parted, and if Darien's expression was anything to go on, his experience had been much the same as mine. He gripped my hands gently, if fervently, and opened his mouth although it took him several tries to get anything out of it.

"Stay with me." He said finally, looking as if his sanity depended upon it. Again reality crashed upon me and I remembered why I had come here in the first place: his grandfather. I gently eased myself behind him and wrapped both of my arms around his large form. They just barely encircled him.

"Of course." I whispered into his ear, and then realized that he was crying. He cried like he didn't quite know how to go about doing it, but like his heart was broken.

"What's wrong?" I whispered, frightened although I already knew his answer. I desperately wanted to help him, but what could I do? For a long time I didn't think he would respond. He just lay against me as I rocked gently, silently willing my arms to block the pain of the world from him.

"At his funeral," he began, so unexpectedly that I froze for a second. He spoke as if he were driven to say those things, but did not consciously want to. It was all I could do to listen. "I realized it. In Japan it had seemed so unreal. I grieved for him rationally, but I just couldn't believe that he was actually dead. He had seemed invincible to me. When I got back here, I saw the body, and I knew, but I was too busy to focus on it. I thought about you, a lot, to distract me. I remembered the way you would crawl under the table at the parlor, looking for your wallet to pay for your milkshakes, and I got through the week. At the funeral, though, it finally hit me." He stopped then, seeming to drift off into a place I couldn't follow and that scared me.

"What hit you?" I prompted, dragging him back to the present.

"That I was all alone." He said finally. "Grandfather was the only one I had left. You had given up on me, but at least, I thought, I still had him. But when I watched them put the dirt on his coffin…" He broke off, crying again in that odd, disjointed way that made me want cry myself. I felt totally helpless in the face of his grief.

I slid back around beside him, and turned his head so he looked directly in my eyes. The hopelessness and pain I saw there made me shiver. "Darien." I said, but he didn't hear me. "Darien." I said again, insistently and I knew he listened. "That's not true." I said, trying to hold the world steady through the film of my tears. "It won't ever need to be true again. You aren't alone, do you hear me? No matter what happens, from now on, you'll always have me." At my words a light shone in his eyes that I had not seen there, and gave me inexpressible relief.

"Why?" He choked.

"Because I love you." I whispered, staring into his opaque blue eyes. "Because you are the only person I can love like this, and I will never leave you again."

"Never too late." Darien quoted hoarsely.

"No," I agreed. "Never."

------------------------

We lay against each other for a while, enjoying Darien's breathing, the feel of his skin against mine. His large hands enveloped mine and the warmth traveled up my body in lazy spurts of fire. At some unknown moment, however, the candle blew out. There was no physical reason for it to do so; the window was closed, and neither Darien nor I was close enough to blow it out. Almost of its own accord the candle spluttered and died, surprising the both of us and plunging the room into darkness. Darien began to move to check what had happened, but a suddenly insistent urge made me stop him. He looked at me silently, questioning. Smiling slightly, I unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and let it flutter to the floor. I paused for a moment to admire his chest in the moonlight. In a passing moment of fancy, I wondered if the fire from the candle had filled me with this uncontrollable desire. Darien caught on quickly, pushing me down on the bed to undo the buttons on my sundress. Halfway down he paused, and stared at me with the ghost of a smile on his face.

"This dress…" he began.

"Yes." I answered, even before he asked the question.

"Even then?" He asked, his eyes searching my face.

"No," I said, smiling. "Even earlier." I drew him down to me, and kissed him ruthlessly. Finally, I could do what I had longed to do practically since puberty. I merged my soul with him, drove myself to the ground with him, and then began again. I explored the innermost reaches of love that night, and was rather surprised I lived to relate the experience.

That night, if one looked very closely, they might have seen an odd flickering of light in one particular dorm room. They would not, however, have noticed any candle.

------------------------

That morning I awoke happier and more satisfied than I could remember being. I lay sprawled across Darien's chest, my blond hair strewn around me. My hand still held his possessively. I stretched gently, careful not to wake him. I was excited to see him sleeping, an activity well cultivated by heroines of romance novels after the event. Even as I turned my head, however, I realized that all was not going precisely according to plan. Namely, he was awake. He smiled at me with a delicately arched eyebrow, as if he knew precisely what I was thinking.

"Well, welcome to the world of the living, Serena." He teased, his voice so much more relaxed and calm than it had been the night before that he sounded like two different people.

"What time is it?" I asked, at once yawning and inching my way up his chest, until I was almost nose to nose with him.

"Only eleven." He said, running his fingers idly through my hair. At least, perhaps he thought the gesture idle. Watching him do it was making me shake with remembered pleasure of the night before. One benefit of falling in love with a reformed player, I mused, was his unquestioned skill in bed. Even as I thought that, however, another more insistent idea entered my head. I perked up immediately, and began sniffing the air like a rabbit.

"What are you doing, Serena?" He asked, laughing slightly.

I didn't answer him, so intent was I on my quarry. Finally, I realized what I had been smelling.

"You have peaches!" I accused, immediately tumbling out of bed to look for them. Darien stared at me for a while before speaking.

"Are you aware that you're naked?" He asked, ostentatiously looking me up and down. I flushed, but held my ground.

"Where are the peaches?" I demanded. Not even taking his eyes off me, he lazily reached around the side of the bed, and pulled out a box.

"I brought them for you, you know." He said quietly, and I stared at him, touched beyond speech. When he came up here, he thought that I wanted nothing to do with him. Yet he had still thought to bring the reminder of our first meeting with him, in the hope that I may want it. The moment passed and Darien, apparently deciding that he had had enough of just looking at me, summarily picked me up, tossed me on the bed and climbed in after me. He picked out the fattest, juiciest looking peach--apparently by touch--and smiled at me. I shut my eyes a little, trying to understand how it was possible to love someone this much, and then gave up trying. I would just have to accept it, and see what happened.

Over the next two hours, I realized that I would never look at a peach as just a fruit again.

------------------------

Good-byes are, of course, always painful. But I never knew how painful until that evening. After the bliss I had experienced with Darien that day, leaving him was proving practically impossible. It felt as if I were ripping some vital organ out of my body, and putting it on the train. On the ride there he had scribbled the number and address of where I could reach him--a friend's house. I clutched it in my hand as my vital link, unwilling to let it out of my sight for a second. I had realized why Darien had come back to Harvard--he hadn't taken all of his stuff from his dorm when he left for Japan, and needed to come back for it. I didn't care so much for the reason, though, just the improbable and incredible fact that he was here, next to me, and that I loved him. We stood on the platform even as the final boarding call sounded, and I knew he wanted to leave me about as much as I did. He held my hands, and I marveled at how I could be surprised every time the fire shot through my body.

"I just have to deal with some things." He said his eyes searching my face again. "It should only take about a month."

I nodded, my mouth dry. "I'll be waiting. Come quickly."

He smiled, lifted me clean off my feet, and kissed me thoroughly. "Don't worry." He said as he set me down. We both realized at the same moment that he was about to miss his train, so with one last glance at me, he picked up his bags and leaped on, leaving me to stare after him. I waited there long after the train left, wondering how to survive a month without him.

------------------------

As expected, dad picked me up with as much fanfare as possible, but I was too distracted to care very much. He was definitely relieved, though, that I had decided to come this time. I wondered how much embarrassment I had caused him the time before, and did not feel a smidgen of regret about it. Mom was obviously happy to see me, and she chattered away about various parties and functions I would attend this summer. I let her go on for a while, but then I realized that what she described would be impossible. I had changed too much to even try to fit in that circle.

"I don't think so, mom." I said gently.

"But the Williams' weren't too happy--" she cut herself off when she heard what I said. "What?" she asked, obviously not understanding.

"I mean, I don't think I can do all those things. It's just not in me anymore."

"Serena…" My father said warningly, but I ignored him.

"You guys really have to understand something: I'm not cut out for this lifestyle and I never will be. You have to accept that about me. I won't be here the entire summer, anyway." No, I finished inside my head, I will only be here for a month more.

"Serena," dad said firmly, "It's your duty as my daughter to attend these functions, and I intend to make sure that you do. Also, your mother and I have been discussing some suitable dates for you--"

I cut him off. "Dad, do you really not understand? I'm not doing this anymore. And I am definitely not going on any more set-up dates. I already have a boyfriend. If I bring anyone, it will be him."

"The peach farmer!" dad spluttered in disbelief.

I smiled happily. "Yes, the peach farmer."

------------------------

Life in the Johnston household wasn't exactly peaceful over the next month. I dodged my parents, refused to go on any set-up dates whatsoever, and camped out at Molly's house more than once. After a while, they figured out that I was serious. I wrote to Darien every day, and this time I sent the letters. I called him all the time, just to hear his voice and to reassure him that this time, things would work out between us. Darien kept me sane that month, because left to their own devices, mom and dad would have forced me to their will. He gave me the strength to resist them. I read his letters over a hundred times, feeling like the glow of happiness surrounding me would never leave. Through various means of communication, Raye, Amy, Lita and Mina had all discovered what had happened between us and were ecstatic. Mina, especially, felt that her matchmaking talents had been vindicated. Of course, she was always claiming the credit for successful relationships. Then in June, I received some terrible news. Well, not to sound melodramatic, but it made me rather upset. The Uptown Scoop, ice cream shop extroardinaire, and my favorite summer hangout, was closing. A larger realtor group, wanting to turn the entire block into chain stores had evicted them. [AN: This is actually true, but the real Uptown Scoop closed in February. I went to their goodbye party with Molly--after having sneaked out of the house. It was the same night as some big function my parents wanted me to attend. Molly and I commiserated with the owner, ate free ice cream, danced to oldies music and signed the guest book. I came close to tears more than once, especially when I realized that I would never again have a strawberry-chocolate milkshake from this place. It seemed like the end of an era.

I don't know how I knew he was there. One moment I was giggling with Molly and the next my back straightened, tingling with anticipation. I could sense him in the doorway, his eyes boring into my back.

"Don't turn around," Molly said breathlessly, "But there is the hottest man I have ever seen standing in that doorway and he's staring straight at you!"

I closed my eyes briefly and said a prayer of thanks. "Do you remember what I told you about Darien?" I asked, looking at her meaningfully.

"You mean…" she trailed off, realization dawning. "Oh my God! That's Darien!" She exclaimed, and her voice was so loud I knew he must have heard her. I felt him walk up behind me, but I still didn't turn around. My hands gripped each other so tightly that my knuckles turned white, and I held my breath in anticipation. He put his hand on my shoulder, gently, and turned my face to his. The second I stared into his eyes I melted, was engulfed by fire. We said nothing, our lips drawn irresistibly forward. I kissed him for an eternal moment of joy, making up for the month without him. He broke it off, staring at me with a goofy smile.

"How did you know?" I asked breathlessly, still caught in his embrace.

"Oh, you only mentioned it about twenty times in your letters." He teased, still holding me there. One arm possessively around my shoulders, he turned to the girl behind the counter, staring at the both of us with surprise.

"One chocolate-strawberry milkshake, please?" He asked, and smiled at me.

I was practically screaming inside with joy. "With vanilla syrup." I amended wryly to Darien, and he winked at me. Suddenly I grew aware of Molly behind us, turning bright red with jealousy.

"Oh, Darien," I said, winking at her, "This is my friend Molly." She looked about ready to faint when he shook her hand, and I wondered objectively if that was how I had reacted the first time I saw him.

The girl behind the counter handed me the milkshake and a straw. I sipped it happily, knowing that this was the last one I would ever have from this place. With Darien here, though, the thought seemed less sad than it had five minutes ago.

"As good as mine?" He asked, after he sat down on a bench and I sat on his lap. I settled myself comfortably in his arms.

"Better." I said, still sipping.

"I'm mortally offended!" He joked, reaching for the cup. I let him have a sip, and he put on an expression of mock bliss.

"Well, I'm biased." He said finally, after he opened his eyes.

"Why?" I asked, suddenly forgetting the milkshake.

"Because it tastes like you." Trust Darien to find the most romantic thing to say at all times, I thought, while I happily kissed him again. He was right, of course. As great as a milkshake tasted, Darien tasted much better. Some time later, as I was finishing my milkshake, I noticed that Darien was lost in thought. I waved my hand in front of his eyes, but he barely registered it.

"Darien?" I questioned, softly.

"What?" He said, startled. "Oh, sorry Serena." He was silent for a moment longer, as I stared at him in concern. I knew these past few weeks had been hard on him. "Have I told you that I love you?" He asked finally, surprising me so much I practically dropped my milkshake.

"Not out loud," I said finally, "I don't think so."

"Well," He said firmly, "I do love you, Usako."

I smiled up at him, nearly overcome with joy. "Of course you do, silly! I've known that for a long time."

He looked stunned. "You have?"

"Yep." I teased, leaning into him. "Female intuition and a little bit of fire."

"Fire?" He repeated, confused.

I grunted an affirmative, reluctantly extracting myself from his arms and his lap. He stood up after me. "It tells me things." I said sententiously, hoping that I didn't sound too crazy. "Like right now, you and I are going to do something monumental."

"We are?" He asked, understanding suddenly dawning in his eyes. I nodded, and grabbed his hand. As I led him out the door, I winked at an open-mouthed Molly. I led him into the humid air of a DC summer night, and twirled a few times, enjoying the feel of the wind through my hair. He watched me, a smile on his lips, utterly lacking mockery, only love.

"First." I said, finally. "I'm going to teach you a little bit about fire." Part of me was surprised that I had lost all of my inhibitions, but I knew that with Darien I would never need them again. I trusted him now, completely. Wrapping my arms seductively around his shoulders I kissed him more thoroughly than we were able back in the ice cream parlor. If pedestrians stopped to stare, I didn't notice. Instead, I drank fire. It seared us, filling us both so quickly that I had to stop before things went too far. My lips burned when we pulled apart.

"I…think I understand." He whispered in my hair.

"I thought you would."

------------------------

"Serena!" My dad thundered, shaking his fist at me, and then retreating to the breakfast table. Mom looked at me with a strange mixture of joy and fear. I held onto Darien's hand harder, for support, and he squeezed back reassuringly.

"I absolutely refuse to allow you to leave for the rest of the summer, do you hear me? You are forbidden!" If he didn't calm down soon, part of me reflected, he would have a heart attack.

"You can't forbid me from doing this, dad. Besides, it's not the whole summer, it's just a month."

"If you were with someone respectable, I might consider it. But I absolutely refuse to allow you to gallivant across the country with this…this…bohemian!" I sighed, and looked up at Darien, apologizing with my eyes. Darien, however, did not look very offended. If anything, he looked slightly amused.

"At least wait until tonight, dear." Mom said, trying to keep the peace. I felt sorry for her. I had never realized before how difficult her position was in this family. While she did not always agree with dad, she had to go along with him. His notions of a woman's 'proper place' did not allow for much dissention.

"Yes, she's right!" Dad said triumphantly. "There is an important function tonight, and I expressly told reporters that you would be there."

Well, now was the moment of truth. I took a deep breath, and I felt Darien's strength flow into me. It was now, or never.

"That's okay, Dad." I said, with a nonchalance I didn't feel. My heart was pounding so hard I wondered if I would have a heart attack. "No need to worry about the reporters."

"What do you mean?" He asked warily, his politician self sensing a trap.

"Oh," I said nonchalantly, suddenly noticing the newspaper still in its plastic by the door. In a swift movement I picked it up, took off the plastic, and tossed it to my father. To his credit, he caught it easily.

"What's going on here?" He asked, his eyes narrowing. Perhaps he knew me better than I had thought. Well, there was no turning back now. And to tell the truth I didn't want to. I had made my decision, and I would never regret it. I felt Darien beside me, lending me his strength, and I felt his love for me. I also felt the fire between us, what we had shared countless times before, but what he had learned just last night. I thought of all this and suddenly I wasn't scared anymore. Darien would never leave me, and I would never be scared again.

"I've already notified all the major newspapers and television stations." All those lessons in mockery from Darien had really paid off.

"Notified them of what?" He asked, and I realized that he really didn't know. He didn't even suspect. After all this time, after all I had tried to tell him, and he never supposed that I was capable of this final slap in the face. Oh well, I thought, unable to hide my grin, all the more fun for me.

"Oh, you don't know?" I said, feigning surprise, as I turned to walk out the door with Darien. I timed the last line perfectly, right before the door closed and anybody could stop me, or object:

"We're married."

THE END

(and remember to check out my novel!)


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